


Shattered

by SerenityJayne



Series: The Warrior and the Dragonfly Series [1]
Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice
Genre: Developing Relationship, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Original Character(s), Romance, Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2018-12-18 01:51:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 116,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11864160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenityJayne/pseuds/SerenityJayne
Summary: He had gone to the Friends of the Library of Metropolis gala for one reason only... To get Lex Luthor's data.  He wasn't there because he cared about a library or being its friend, he wasn't even there for the drinks and he certainly wasn't there to meet anyone.Too bad things don't always go according to plan.





	1. Friends of the Library of Metropolis Party

**Author's Note:**

> Probably, definitely a Mary-Sue... Probably definitely don't care. Probably definitely just doing this to get my writer's ear worm to get out of my brain. Probably definitely might need a rating change. Probably definitely would leave my own Mary-Sue for Gal Gadot, but hey, this is my dream!
> 
> Enjoy!

_November 1st, 2016-- Friends of the Library of Metropolis Party_

Bruce walked into the room, his skin already crawling at the prospect of having to socialize with all of these people, milling around the room, glued on smiles, champagne in hand in hopes of bumping into someone rich with a little too much martini in their system and their checkbook within easy reach. It was one of many downsides to being among the rich, always someone with a story and a hand outstretched. Not that he was unwilling to part with his money, but he was certainly more discerning about with whom he shared it and generally speaking, most of these people would not be among them. Besides, he wasn't here for pleasantries and networking-- he had to get the drive to Lex's servers before night's end to gather all the data he was looking for about the White Portuguese and get the hell out. As no one was speaking to keep the crowd's attention, he begrudgingly began to walk the room, steering clear of people he knew were only interested in him for his money and smiling as pleasantly as possible to those who were unfamiliar. He saw a small group of people around a standing table sipping from champagne and gnawing on shrimps on toothpicks. They were all chattering to each other, laughing and guzzling drinks, but on further inspection, he saw at least one in their number that wasn't laughing and chattering, in fact she looked like he felt but wasn't able to show. 

Fish out of water. 

She stood quietly on her own, not part of any conversation surrounding her but certainly not unaware of the people she was near, he took note that she seemed to have a keen eye on everyone milling by, maintaining an unobtrusive watch on them but not imposing herself on anyone. She had on a dark blue, well fitting, lace cocktail dress, that had a retro flair to it; something ladies of the 50's might have worn at similar gatherings with a flowing skirt that reached just below her knees, showing enough leg to be impressive but not enough to share her story, which seemed to be the goal of several of the women surrounding her. The bodice shone with beading in floral patterns that reached up to shoulders capped in lace sleeves. Just a hint of skin peeping from beneath the pattern. A single strand of pearls rested around her neck which was barely in stark contrast to her already pale skin, an oval face housed a mouth that had been touched with the barest pink color to accentuate a slightly fuller bottom lip. Once again, unlike her counterparts, she wasn't wearing copious amounts of makeup, just a hint of blush, eyelids kissed by pinks with a light shimmer that made hazel eyes pop behind her dark lashes. She had auburn hair that was swept up behind her head in soft twists until it reached a thick but loose bun just above her neck.

Bruce would have been lying to himself if he didn't find her demure and modest look more enticing than many of the more scantily clad women wandering the room. It did make him wonder if she had intended for that when she had put the outfit together or if it was just a genuine representation of who she was. He leaned toward the latter based off how she was keeping to herself. He didn't have time to wonder much more as people started moving toward the front as a young blonde woman made her way up to the stage to begin introducing their host. Bruce's eye was caught as he scanned the room again, a beautiful dark haired woman in a form-fitting, deep burgundy dress and smokey eyes turned back to look directly at him. He wasn't sure what to make of her as it seemed like she knew him, but more than just in a "I've seen your face in the paper" sort of way. If he wasn't trying to find the most opportune moment to escape it might have been more concerning to him. Finally the blonde caught everyone's attention with a slight tap to the microphone and gesturing toward the host of the party.

"Philanthropist, bibliophile and true friend to the Library of Metropolis, Lex Luthor..." She said, the LexCorp CEO heading to the front, floppy hair swinging as he hopped the stairs to greet her. As all eyes focused on Lex’s stuttering, Bruce made his way to his intended target.

“Alright, Alfred. Where am I going?” he wasn’t hearing what Lex was saying, not that it mattered to him, but he was also unaware Alfred’s careful directions were being overheard by someone else, and his footsteps were being shadowed by more than he knew. He didn’t enjoy working like this. He felt naked without his suit and cowl providing him with anonymity that being Bruce Wayne did not. One wrong move and everything he was trying to accomplish here could go up in smoke. If he had to fake being the bumbling drunk billionaire one more time he was likely to throw himself off a bridge if he had the opportunity.

After several close calls, he finally made his way back to the gathering to wait for the data transfer to complete only to be accosted by a dark haired bespectacled reporter from the Daily Planet; who was quickly becoming more irritating by the second as he questioned Bruce about Batman’s (his) tactics in fighting crime and if he agreed that Batman (he) was trampling civil liberties. He had never been so relieved to be interrupted by Lex Luthor; strange little man that he was, never seeming to be in control of his mouth or maybe it was his mind. It only took Bruce a moment to extricate himself from that conversation to get back to the server room, just to discover his data drive had already been removed and was now running away in the deep burgundy dress from earlier. She managed to elude him in a room full of people, speeding off into the night with all the information he desperately needed to move forward with his plans. He would have punched a wall if it wouldn’t end up on the 10 o’clock news and headlines screeching about the crazed billionaire putting holes in people’s houses. 

He turned away from the road the woman of mystery had disappeared down, trying to cool the rage in his belly. His attention was pulled back to the house as once again, the crowd was moving into the great room they had started in. Curiosity got the better of him and he followed the masses, noting the ever annoying, Clark Kent, was nowhere to be seen now; which was likely for the best as he didn’t have time to share air with naive supporters of an alien who could blow the planet up with one well placed look. He made his way into the room with the others as Lex took the stage again.

“Uh, heh, hi again-- I guess just do not know how to stay out of the spotlight tonight… Uh…” He said, his guests guffawing politely in time with his awkward joking, “But I digress-- I do want to bring the spotlight to a particular guest we have here tonight, uh where is Myr-- Is Myrna-- Ah, there she is.” He said as all the eyes in the room began looking for whoever he was talking about. Bruce found her immediately, the red haired woman from earlier in the lace blue dress he had found enticing earlier, having come in just beside him, currently looking surprised and wanting to melt into the floor much too late as everyone else began to find her too.

“Ah!” Lex exclaimed from his stage, “There she is, uh, ehehe, our little wallflower, Myrna, Myrna, Myrna, would you come here please?” He asked, gesturing for her to join him where he stood. Her discomfort was palpable to Bruce but was quickly replaced with more surprise as a man and woman came from the doorway behind her; one was a tall dark haired a man with a graying mustache, the other a shorter, plump woman with red hair, that despite it lightening with age, was the same as the woman he had come to learn was named Myrna. It was clear these were her parents as they reached her, her mother touching her arm.

“Honey, go up!” she encouraged excitedly, despite Myrna’s confusion.

“What… How… Why are you here?” She couldn’t even finish her sentence before she was pushed forward toward the stage, muttering something under her breath that Bruce couldn’t hear but could hazard weren’t pleasant words. People parted as she walked to the front, everyone very quiet as they waited for her to come forward, her heels clicking on the marble floor. 

“Come, come, Myrna, do not be shy, we have something special for you.” Lex commented as she finally reached him, turning to face the crowd after giving her an awkward hug and kiss on the cheek. “Now, some of you might not recognize this lovely woman standing beside me, but you should, ehehe, because we have among us-- a hero.” He said, pausing for dramatic effect, everyone’s eyes coming to rest on her again. Bruce was impressed with her poker face, but could see from the way her hands were clasped so tightly her fingers were turning white, that she was getting more uncomfortable by the second. If Lex noticed, he didn’t let on, continuing on with his speech.

“If you remember, which I do not know how you could forget, two years ago, there was an attack on this great city of Metropolis… An attack by beings from another world, intent on our destruction… I am sure many of you believe Superman was and and still is, the hero of the hour, even Bruce Wayne, hello!” Lex interrupted himself to wave at him all the way in the back, Bruce giving a curt nod as heads swiveled on necks to see him but Bruce was more interested in where this story was leading, “ Was present to pull people to safety-- But, eh, I disagree-- respectfully-- Yes, Superman and Mr. Wayne acted heroically as well, but THIS woman… this woman… Ehehe, standing here right now, is an unsung hero.” The room darkening just enough to show a photo illuminated on the wall behind them. Bruce recognized the destruction in the photo immediately, most of it within the same block as the Wayne Enterprises building in Metropolis had once been, where many of his friends and employees had died or been maimed; where he himself had been trying to pull people like Wallace Keefe from the rubble. Dead center of the photo was Myrna, covered in dust and debris, hair swirling around her face, a child in her arms, surrounded by others in the wreckage, leading them to safety. She was calling out for someone, perhaps the photographer, that even in the silence of a photograph he could almost hear. Further inspection showed the left side of her shirt soaked in blood that was obviously hers from the large shard of glass sticking from her side. Bruce looked back at the woman standing beside Lex, clean from the dust and rubble of the photo, healthy and healed from the injury he was seeing immortalized in photos. He could also see she was doing everything she could to keep from looking at the photo, her poker face slipping to show a sadness he knew well, but Lex’s voice cut through once more. 

“Myrna was with her kindergarten class on a field trip to the Metropolis Children’s Museum, a fun place with educational activities when Zod and his merry band of Kryptonians, fell upon the city. And as with many of the buildings in Metropolis, the museum was destroyed, trapping Myrna and her students inside.” He said, Bruce seeing Myrna’s eyes shimmer as Lex began forcing her to relieve what she had clearly tried to put behind her. “Seemingly mortally wounded by the large shard of glass you see here, our dear Myrna carried on, shifting rubble and carrying students either injured or too scared to safety, going back repeatedly and ignoring her own injuries until she could no longer help…” Lex opened his hands toward her, gesturing to indicate they should all look at her now, Myrna crossing her arms in front of her body, one of her hands coming to rest over where he suspected there was a significant scar from the glass that had injured her, fingers gripping at the lace that covered it. Again, either not seeing it or being being unaffected by the move, Lex continued. “I think I can speak for Metropolis and perhaps, uh, even Gotham, when I say, Miss Myrna Swift is a true hero…” He said, allowing people to clap for her before raising his hands for silence.

“Yes, a true hero, but even that is not why we are here today… No… Eh, after Miss Swift’s body healed from its wounds, she returned to teaching, leaving Metropolis and taking a job in Gotham’s inner-city. No easy feat, I have heard.” Lex added, Bruce looking over at Myrna’s parents, her mother misty-eyed, hand over her mouth as she watched her daughter, her father beaming with pride. “Now, as if she did not have enough to do teaching the young of Gotham City, Myrna has opened the doors of her own school for those most at risk for being left behind-- and in recognition of her hard work and the latest round of school testing showing all of her current students are reading at an above average grade level, the library has elected to award Metropolis’ former daughter the uh, heh, highly sought after Metropolis Reaching for Excellence in Education Award.” He finally finished, taking the small glass award that was being handed to him over to Myrna as the crowd clapped; her parents cheering for her with abandon in the back of the room. Hearing them, Myrna looked up, shaking her head with a smile that Bruce was beginning to find rather attractive. Lex patted her arm, gesturing out to the crowd as though he knew what they were thinking.

“Speech, speech!” he demanded, even though she was clearly reluctant the room quieted down again for her as she took center stage.

“I… I don’t even know what to say, other than thank you… This was certainly unexpected and I have no doubt this honor should have gone to someone far more deserving than I…” She looked at the award awkwardly, trying to find words, finally looking back up and laughing, “See, I find 30 kindergartners far less intimidating than a room full of grown ups!” She said, the room laughing warmly at her humble joking. “Anyway,” she continued, “All I can say, is thank you to my beautiful parents for supporting me and loving me into who I am today-- you being here with me tonight is award enough…” she said looking at her parents through the glare of the lights and smiling, “Thank you to my staff for making our program work, even when it’s a struggle and it seems like I ask the impossible… To my students for challenging me daily and thank you to the Metropolis Library and Mr. Luthor for the invitation and award, it is greatly appreciated! Thank you.” She said lifting the award so it shone in the light with her thanks and then quickly exited the stage. Before she made her way back to them, some in the crowd stopping her to congratulate her; Bruce stepped over to her parents, both recognizing him immediately. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Swift-- You must be so proud of your daughter.” He said, shaking their hands, not entirely sure why he wasn’t just leaving. Curiosity should have been satiated long ago, but here he was, talking to two beaming parents, following their eyes to their daughter who had found a lull in socializing and was only feet away now. Her eyes met his, a brief flash of recognition causing her steps to hiccup in surprise as she realized who was talking with her family. Hitching her award closer to her side, she kept moving into the waiting arms of her mother who immediately held her daughter’s face in her hands to express how proud she was of her. Her father turned back to Bruce to answer his comments.

“So very proud, Mr. Wayne. She’s our only child, you see, and to have her go through what she has and keep on pushing through for the children she works with-- her mother and I could never express what a pride and joy she is to us.” He said as Myrna finally freed herself from her mother’s embrace, turning to face he and her father. Bruce supposed it should offend him that another person was allowed the privilege of having loving parents who clearly adored them, but he found it oddly refreshing. They seemed like kind people and their daughter was obviously their world-- now that she had greeted her parents, he stepped forward, putting his hand out to shake hers. She went to respond, realizing her award was still in the hand she needed, bashfully she switched it to her other side, grasping his hand and shaking it firmly.

“You’d think they’d realize a glass award might be a little off-putting to me.” She joked, Bruce feeling his mouth turn up into a long forgotten smile as he realized she was right.

“I’m sure someone realized you’d be a good sport about it.” He responded, Myrna’s face breaking into her own smile.

“Depends on the day and who you ask.” She said, as the group wandered out of the loud room into the slightly less crowded halls. Bruce balked at her suggestion, finding if even for a moment that he was enjoying flirting for the sake of flirting. 

“I’m sure that’s not true.” He said, Myrna giving a small shrug with a bit of a devilish smile.

“It’s probably a little true…” She said as her mother took her award out of her hands.

“Let me look at this… Ohhhh, Myr, it’s beautiful! It’s engraved and everything, how lovely.” Mrs. Swift said with excitement as she looked at the award, the cut glass in the shape of a book unfurling to show a story, of which was the name of the award, Myrna’s name and the year it was presented to her. It was in fact a very nice award, but he could tell from the way Myrna was looking at it, it wasn’t something she was invested in.

“You know, they called us to let us know you’d be getting this a few days ago, wanted to give us a chance to make arrangements to be here for you.” She said, Myrna smiling at her.

“Well, I had no idea, but I’m glad you were able to come, you definitely surprised me-- Honestly wasn’t on my radar, wasn’t even sure why the school got an invitation to this barn dance.” She said looking at Bruce with a striking twinkle in her eye; he nodded in agreement.

“I agree, I don’t know why I’m here either.” He said, but the look on Myrna’s face told him she was fully aware of why HE had been invited. Myrna’s mother shook her head and grabbed her daughter’s hand, squeezing it gently.

“She’s never liked people making a fuss about her, even when it’s deserved. Practically wrote an expose when she was in the Girl Scouts on people missing the point, about her raising enough funds as part of a project to save horses from slaughter, because they asked her to a special ceremony to present her a badge. ” She said, Myrna looking at Bruce with a smattering of embarrassment in her eyes.

“I’m sure Mr. Wayne doesn’t really want to hear about my time in Girl Scouts, mom.” She said her face slowly turning red. Bruce decided, against what would normally be his better judgment, that this was a woman he needed to get to know, what little he knew already was intriguing and her interest in him, what little there was, didn’t feel like what he was used to and he wanted more of it.

“Actually, I’ve always been fascinated by Girl Scouts… Did you have to wear the sash and everything?” He asked, Myrna’s head tilting in surprise and even a little wariness as she tried to figure out his end game. Her mother barely took a breath before answering him, far more excited than her daughter seemed to be that someone the likes of Bruce Wayne wanted to know more about her baby girl.

“Oh, we had to get her a vest. She had so many badges I didn’t have the space to sew them on anymore.” She said, Myrna shutting her eyes as though willing the ground to open up and swallow her whole. Her father, who seemed to understand his daughter particularly well, coughed loudly, interrupting his wife from continuing on as they had reached the front doors of Lex’s mansion to where the red carpet led back out to the valet and parking, He turned to face them as they reached the doors, looking at her expectantly.

“Myr, I know you drove here tonight and it’s getting late, we want you to get back to Gotham before too long-- your mother and I will meet you at Fabrizi’s tomorrow to celebrate, that is if Fabrizi’s isn’t too old school for our big award winner.” He said, Myrna laughing as she hugged her dad goodbye.

“No, it isn’t too old school, dad.” She said, kissing him on the cheek, “I’ll be there after work.” She added as he offered an arm to her mother, and a hand to Bruce once more.

“Mr. Wayne, it was a pleasure meeting you.” He said, as the two shook hands, Mrs. Swift nodding in agreement, the two walking off toward the valet and parking. Bruce looked at Myrna as she watched her parents leave, she looked back at him and realized she was being regarded. She smiled, he could tell she assumed he would be leaving now and was preparing to say goodbye and perhaps she would have been right some other night, but tonight, despite the loss of his drive and his own urgency to get the information it contained, he found he didn’t really want to leave just yet.

“Thank you for letting my mother… You know… Talk.” She said, fully preparing for his departure in the next moment. Bruce waved it off with a smile of his own.

“I’m sure it was less painful for me than it was for you. She’s obviously very proud of you-- they both are and for good reason it seems.” He said, Myrna’s eyes dropping to the floor, blushing again. He found it interesting almost to the point of invigorating that she wasn’t simpering for his compliments, she was genuinely surprised to be receiving them. 

“Well, thank you anyway, Mr. Wayne.” 

“Bruce, please.” He said, Myrna nodding her head in agreement of his request.

“Bruce-- It was a plea--” she began but Bruce interrupted her, knowing she was saying goodnight.

“Would you like to take a walk?” he asked her, Myrna looking taken aback and a little confused.

“I… Well, I… I assumed you’d… I was...” she said, Bruce realizing she thought he meant take a walk rudely.

“I mean, would you like to take a walk with me-- I’ve heard even in the colder months Lex’s grounds are pretty nice-- Maybe you’d like to get away from the barn dance for a few minutes before heading home.” He clarified, Myrna’s face registering that he hadn’t actually been telling her to take a walk. Laughing at herself for not picking up on that detail, she smiled and nodded yes, Bruce holding out his arm for her to take as they walked down the stairs towards the grounds. They were quiet for the first few moments as they walked passed the patios that were still milling with people, music from the party inside drifting out from the house as the doors from the great room to the outdoors opened and shut as people passed through them. As it got a little quieter and the grounds were lit less by man-made lighting and more by the moon, it finally felt like they were alone.

“You were right about it being nice out here.” Myrna said as she scanned the grounds, brightened by moonlight. Even in the dark and a time of year when everything was asleep and waiting for warmer temperatures, it was manicured and clean. There were several fountains spread out along the grounds, that even though were dry of any water, were dimly lit, casting strange shadows on the well-maintained sidewalks. Bruce took a moment to watch her again, now that there was enough cover of darkness for her not to notice. He couldn’t put his finger on what was drawing him to this particular woman tonight. He knew what kind of man he was, he hadn’t had time for real relationships, dedicating so much of it to being the Batman, trying to make Gotham safe from criminals and doing so in a way that had to be kept secret from anyone who might get too close. Because of this, he had spent most of his adult life pursuing women he knew wouldn’t stick around for long, women that were interested in him for purely greedy reasons, women that would grow tired of his own seemingly thoughtless and self-serving behavior and would leave after both parties had been satisfied with whatever it was they thought they needed; sex, money, a brief moment of contact with another human being, whatever else there might be. Much to Alfred’s ongoing dismay, it seemed the years would toil on, Batman continuing ever on but the chances of Bruce having a family of his own ever dimming. 

Looking at Myrna Swift now, he didn’t see that kind of woman. He had only known her for half an hour at the most and what little they had exchanged she appeared to be a woman of character, who had not once in that half hour, attempted to ingratiate herself to him for any reason other than it was the polite thing to do. She had had no expectations of him to do anything for her, had smiled because she was happy and not because she had to act like she cared and had been surprised when given compliments she had earned. Had he been anyone but him, he suspected she was the type of woman he would have moved heaven and earth to find for himself, which was why he couldn’t explain why he wasn’t walking away now before he found out for sure.

“He’s a strange little man, but he has decent taste.” He answered, Myrna turning to look back at him an amused look on her face.

“He is a little strange, isn’t he?” she asked, Bruce nodding. He didn’t know Lex particularly well, he had had dealings with him in the past through mutual endeavors with their companies, but had declined enough invitations to come to Metropolis for events, both business and personal that he couldn’t claim to know him personally, but what experience he did had shown a very odd man that Bruce couldn’t be sure was entirely sane. He was relatively harmless though and at least had produced some things through LexCorp that were good for the general population.

“I’ve always thought so-- How do you know him? Do you know him?” he asked her, Myrna shrugging her shoulders as though the story were hardly worth telling.

“LexCorp has a few mentoring programs that reach out to schools in the Metropolis and Gotham City areas, they work with kids on learning coding, engineering basics, things of that nature. We’ve had a few students apply to the program and I’ll go with them to their interviews if their parents aren’t able to. He’s been involved with a few of those from time to time. We’ve only spoken a few times, which is why I was surprised to be invited here at all.” She responded, her hands unconsciously running up and down her arms, Bruce realizing she hadn’t worn a coat out to see her parents off and was now standing in the November moonlight with bare arms. He immediately unbuttoned his own suit jacket, slipping it off and holding it out to her.

“I’m sorry, Myrna-- I didn’t even realize you didn’t have a coat.” She held up her hands to politely decline.

“Oh, it was my own stupid fault, I don’t want you to get cold because I wandered off without a coat… I’m only a teacher, you’d think ‘Put your coat on, kid’ would be second nature by now.” Bruce shook his head and walked behind her, sliding his jacket over her shoulders, his fingers brushing against them, her skin chilled but soft as the fabric of the suit coat draped over it.

“Don’t worry about me, I don’t get cold that easily.” He said with a reassuring smile as he came back around to face her. Her hands reached up to the lapels of the jacket, pulling them together across her chest. She looked down at it and burst out laughing as it puddled around her.

“Oh my gosh, I look like I belong in the lollipop guild!” She said, her voice continuing to bubble with laughter that was infectious as he looked her over. She wasn’t exactly short, but at 6’4 he was still considerably taller and had a few pounds on her, it caused her to be swimming in the fabric of the coat.

“Well, at least you won’t get cold.” He said, trying to keep his own laugh contained even though she did look ridiculous. She flapped her arms a few times, the coat billowing out around her like a cape.

“I suppose if I find I need to jump off any tall buildings I’ll be able to slow my fall with my parachute.” She said shaking her head. He smiled at her, she had a sense of humor he hadn’t been around in a long time and he was enjoying it.

“So this school of yours, why did you choose to open it and why Gotham’s inner-city.” He was curious to know the answer to this, considering he had spent many a night as Batman chasing down criminals in Gotham’s inner-city. He couldn’t imagine anyone intentionally opening a school there, when even the city’s school system didn’t want to. Myrna’s face took on a thoughtful look as she considered how she was going to respond.

“After Metropolis was attacked, after the,” she tripped over the word, “museum… I realized that I had been given a second chance to do good for people who needed it.” She said, Bruce looking at her questioningly.

“You saved all of those children, it sounds like you nearly died doing it-- I’d say you were already doing good.” He responded, Myrna shaking her head no, turning her head away from him.

“Not all of them.” She said.

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t save all the children.” She repeated, finally looking back at him, her eyes wet and Bruce realized that’s why she had been upset when Lex had been telling her story.

“Whenever they tell the story, they never mention that I wasn’t able to get them all out. Three of my students were trapped so deeply under the wreckage, I couldn’t get to them in time. Rescuers hadn’t even gotten to us by the time I got the majority of my class out, by the time they did and I got help to move the wreckage, they were gone…” She continued, Bruce felt his heart sink for her as she told him the rest of the story. “The coroner told the families they had died shortly before they were found… Five years old and for hours they waited for me to find them, to save them and I couldn’t. Maybe if I had just moved one more stone, lifted one more beam they’d still be here and they wouldn’t have died alone and scared…” Her voice broke off as she thought about what might have been. Bruce realizing why the sadness on her face had been so familiar earlier. He often felt it himself about all the people he had failed in his own life, either as Bruce or as the Batman. He recognized the self flagellation of a person who likely knew they had done everything they could but it didn’t make the guilt go away.

“Myrna, I’m sorry… I know you’ve probably heard this a million times, but there’s nothing you could have done, the devastation to the city during the attack was immense.” He said, knowing it wouldn’t make her feel any better about it, but it still needed to be said.

“I know. I suppose that answers why I opened my school where I did… It probably sounds stupid, but if there’s even a small chance I can save other children… Even if it’s saving them from their circumstances, then that’s my penance…” She said, Bruce understanding what she was saying completely. He had always felt the same way about what he was doing, penance for not being able to save his parents, penance for Gotham being what it was when he had returned to it, so many times he had blamed himself for things he couldn’t control, but it seemed that was just the kind of people he and Myrna were. He was surprised to hear a voice in his ear, that wasn’t his or Myrna’s, remembering now that Alfred was still on the comm from his earlier attempted mission.

“Careful, Master Wayne-- you might end up liking this one.” He said, Bruce having to remind himself that responding right now would be inopportune. He nonchalantly reached up to his ear as though to scratch at an itch and tapped his earpiece off, the last thing he needed was Alfred in his ear. He saw her wipe at her eyes quickly, embarrassed she was crying in front of him and let a smile pass over her face.

“Two years, you’d think I’d be at peace with things, but I guess it never leaves you.” She finally said, Bruce nodding.

“No, it doesn’t.” He responded, walking closer to her, but before he could reach her yet another interruption began, as a slew of reporters came around the bend of the sidewalk they were on; they hadn’t been expecting to find Bruce Wayne there with a woman they didn’t recognize but they certainly didn’t waste any time getting their cameras up for the latest in juicy tabloid gossip. Pushing their way forward they all began yelling for Bruce’s attention at once. The vultures swarmed and he saw Myrna back up, overwhelmed with the prospect of being interviewed for the mere fact she was around Bruce Wayne. She looked at Bruce over the melee of reporters and tilted her head in a silent goodbye, hurrying back to Lex’s mansion before he was surrounded, questions ranging from who Myrna was to him and what Wayne Enterprises latest project was. To say it was the second time in one night he had been denied something he wanted, was an understatement. It took him a few minutes to expertly fend off the reporters, satisfying them with whatever information he wanted to share and trying to keep Myrna’s name out of the gossip section of the papers. Feeling more than a little put out about how the evening had gone, Bruce managed to get back to the mansion, scanning the crowd one more time before he left to make sure Myrna wasn’t still there, before heading out, the valet bringing his car up to the red carpet for him. He was surprised when he opened the door and found his jacket neatly folded on the passenger’s side seat. Tucked just ahead of his pocket square was a small piece of paper with neat, flowing handwriting.

_“Bruce,  
Sorry I left you to the wolves earlier-- I say dumb things when I’m on camera, so it’s better for everyone if I stay away from them. Wanted to make sure you got your jacket back, thanks for keeping me warm on our walk! -Myrna”_

He smiled as he read her note, tucking it back into his jacket pocket before he hit the gas and running for the horizon. He had allowed himself a moment of normalcy, but now he had work to do and it was only getting later. Time to find some answers to far too many questions.


	2. A Day in the Life of Myrna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day after the Friends of the Library of Metropolis party and Myrna assumes she's seen the last of Bruce Wayne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're making progress! I think. I'm trying to keep this story in line with the timeline of Batman V Superman so there's a bit of a juxtaposition of Bruce preparing for Superman and the Mary-Sue standard of finding someone like Myrna. My hope is that it's not an infuriating path for anyone! Thanks for continuing to read!

Myrna woke by a sound she could only describe as a banshee..  In reality, it was her alarm doing exactly what she was asking it to do, but it didn’t stop her from wanting to hurl her phone against the wall every time it went off anyway.  She poked blearily at the “Stop alarm” button that blinked at the bottom of the screen, mocking her that it was 7:00 in the morning and she needed to be at work in an hour.  She set her phone down on the bedside table again, dropping back onto her pillows, rubbing her eyes free of sleep.  She hadn’t gotten home until almost 1am, having stayed later than she was intending and the almost forty-five minute drive home across the bay bridge from Metropolis to Gotham and another 30 minutes scrubbing the makeup and hair product off her left her getting to bed closer to 2am.  The sun had already been considering peeping over the horizon by the time she had kissed her two dogs goodnight and slipped under her covers.  Now it was in full force, screaming at her to get out of bed because she had things she had to do.  She sighed, sliding her feet out from under her comforter, pushing herself up and stretching.

 

She wandered out to the kitchen where her best friend and roommate, Penelope was already sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal.  Penni looked up from the paper she was reading to see her friend shuffle tiredly to the refrigerator, pulling out a container of orange juice.

 

“Good morn--- Well, I would say sunshine, but you look like crap, so maybe not… Late night?” She asked, Myrna raising her eyebrows in annoyance over the glass she was drinking from to look at her friend.  Penni had her jet black hair pulled back into a ponytail, dark eyes peeped over a set of purple rimless glasses, her tanned skin looking much healthier than Myrna’s pasty, tired kind.

 

“Who has a party on a Tuesday night?  Seriously, do NONE of these people work?” She responded after swallowing her mouthful of juice.  Penni laughed as she shook the paper out to the next page.

 

“No, Myr-- They’re rich… They don’t work.” She said sarcastically, Myrna shrugging in agreement as she took another sip of juice and grabbed a bowl for her own cereal.

 

“Speaking of rich…” She heard Penni say with shock in her voice as she looked at the paper more closely, “When were you going to mention you were rubbing shoulders with Bruce The Hunk Wayne?!” she said, eyes snapping back up to Myrna expectantly.  Myrna nearly choked on her juice as she turned to look at the photo Penni was holding up gleefully, showing that at least one reporter had managed to get a photo of them together on their walk.  Myrna grabbed the paper out of her friends hand, inspecting the black and white photo in front of her.

 

“This is a terrible photo…” She said after a moment and set the paper back down on the table to continue pouring her cereal.  She heard Penni’s indignant sigh behind her, trying to hide the smile on her face because she knew her friend wouldn’t let up until she told her.

 

“So it’s going to be like that, huh?” Penni said, tapping the paper expectantly.  Myrna nodded as she poured her milk, grabbing her juice and spoon to bring everything to the table.

 

“There’s nothing to tell really-- he was at the library thing, he congratulated me on the award I got, thanks for telling me about that by the way…” She said as she prepared a bite, looking at her friend who gave a sheepish smile.

 

“Who says I knew about that?” she asked coyly, Myrna rolling her eyes.

 

“The fact you and my mother don’t know how to keep secrets so I know she told you.”

 

“Well if I can’t keep secrets, then you definitely would have known about it…” Penni contradicted, Myrna shaking her head as she ate her breakfast.

 

“Don’t try to squelch out of it.”

 

“Who’s squelching?  I for one, am glad you didn’t know, you wouldn’t have gone otherwise, you hate that kind of stuff, even when you’re getting recognized for the work you do… Besides, if you hadn’t have gone, you would never have met Mr. Wayne.” She said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at Myrna, making her laugh through her breakfast.

 

“Stop.”

 

“Stop what?!  I’m not the one who bagged Bruce Wayne!”

 

“I did NOT ‘bag’, Bruce Wayne.” Myrna argued, as this was not a conversation she was having - certainly not at 7 in the morning, she was too tired for that.

 

“Well… You did get home way later than you said you would...” Penni pressed, knowing she was driving Myrna batty, which was part of the process they had as friends.  It was an honest friendship at least and she knew Myrna wasn’t actually offended, just balking at the thought someone might be interested in her.

 

“Because it was a long drive home.”

 

“Not that long.”

 

“What are you suggesting?”

 

“I don’t know, what aren’t you telling me?”

 

“What do you think I haven’t told you?”

 

“I don’t know, like how was your night of unbridled passion with Gotham’s most eligible and fiscally potent bachelor?” She said, winking at her friend and waving the newspaper where she could see it.  Myrna rubbed the bridge of her nose, it really was too early for this.

 

“Do I _look_ like I had a night of unbridled passion with _anyone_ , much less Bruce Wayne?” she asked, Penni looking her up and down from where she sat and tilting her head as she regarded her.

 

“Well… No… You look like you got run over by a train-- but possibly that’s the same thing.” She said laughing, Myrna joining in as they both hurried to finish their breakfast and get ready for work.  They were out the door and on their way before long, taking Myrna’s van this morning, the two often carpooling to save time and money.  It seemed like everything was back to normal until a security vehicle passed by them with the familiar shield logo of Wayne Enterprises on the side and suddenly Penni remembered what she had been questioning her about earlier.

 

“Oh look!  He sent a car to pick you up!” She laughed, eyeballing Myrna who looked as though she were ready to drive the car into a ditch.

 

“Penni!”

 

“What?  You act like it would be so terrible if you had actually spent the night with the man-- Let me tell you, if he looked at me with those dark eyes and broad shoulders, I would.. Mmm…” Penni trailed off as they got to a stoplight and Myrna looked expectantly at the dark haired woman sitting beside her.

 

“Oh please, do continue.” She said sarcastically, knowing she would; it’s why she loved her, even though at this moment, she really was ready to Thelma and Louise this situation.

 

“I’m just saying, if he needed someone to help him loofah his back, I would volunteer as tribute.” She finished as the light changed and Myrna accelerated on.  Thankfully they were only a few minutes from work.  She had at least two meetings today with potential funders and she had promised Penni (who was a teacher at the Swift Academy) she would help her with a garden activity she had planned with her class.  The last thing she had time to focus on, was Bruce Wayne.

 

_12:30pm_

 

By the time lunch rolled around, Myrna had all but forgotten her earlier conversation with Penni.  She’d had her two potential funder meetings, one of which seemed promising, the other not so much; an unscheduled meeting with a parent who had concerns about her child’s grades; and now she was covering lunch, recess and afternoon classes for one of her staff who had had to leave early because her daughter was sent home sick from daycare.  All in all it was a pretty slow day for her.  She sat with some of her students at the lunch tables, talking to them about their days and what they were learning. Not all of them were fans of hers as they had been visitors to her office on more than one occasion to be reminded of their expectations, but they were coming around.  Others she knew depended on her to care for them as much as their parents should have; unfortunately, working in the area they did, she was astutely aware of which children didn’t have a decent adult influence in their life outside of school and strove to be that for them if at all possible.  Not only did she want to prepare them for a future outside of the academy as productive human beings, she wanted them to do so with the knowledge there was at least one person they could trust to support them.  She dismissed the latest lunch group to recess, walking outside with Penni and and a few of her other teachers as the kids shot off in all directions on the playground, calling dibs on swing sets and play climbers, some grabbing up basketballs to shoot hoops as they played outside.  Despite being November the day was oddly warm, the breezes cool but pleasant and the sun warming everything just enough to keep everyone comfortable as they played outside.

 

Myrna walked the playground, keeping an eye on some of the children she knew played a little rougher than others and waiting for the next call for a band-aid.  She stopped when she got to one of the play climbers that had monkey bars that were a little closer to the ground and easier for the smaller kids to play on.  Closer inspection led her to find one of her kindergartners, a little blonde boy named Thomas, his legs hooked over one of the bars, watching the world go by upside down.  She looked at him, tilting her head so she could see him better.

 

“Thomas, what are you doing?” she asked, knowing that he could sometimes do odd things, this being one of those times.  The little boy met her eyes and smiled at her, Myrna matching it and smiling back.

 

“I’m practicing.” He responded, as though she would know what he meant.  She walked closer and bent so their faces were level with one another.

 

“Practicing for what?” She asked him, still not sure what hanging upside down was practice for.

 

“To be Batman-- Bats hang upside down, Miss Penni said so when we read a story about them-- Batman tries to be like bats, I want to be like Batman.”  He answered, good naturedly and very matter of factly.  Myrna shook her head, impressed with his logic.

 

“Well, I can’t argue with that-- but I think even Batman might get a headache hanging like that.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because, all the blood would run from his toes into his brain!  And so will yours!” She said dramatically, the little boy considering what she was saying and then shaking his head in disagreement.

 

“Nah, Batman is too strong for that.  So am I.” He said with authority, Myrna smiling and patting his upside down face.

 

“You’re probably right, Thomas… I should try to learn as much about Batman as you have.”

 

“It’s ok, Miss Myrna, I learned it all on YouTube, you should too.  Who’s that?” He asked, changing the subject so quickly, Myrna wasn’t sure what he was talking about until she turned and followed his pointing finger.  She wasn’t expecting anyone else today and she certainly wasn’t expecting to see who she was seeing standing a few feet away.

 

Bruce Wayne.

 

She was taken aback and was having trouble getting her mouth working to answer Thomas when he started walking towards her, to close the gap between them.

 

“Mr. Wayne… Bruce… I… I wasn’t expecting you.” She said, not sure what she was supposed to do with herself now that he was here.

 

“I know, I’m here unannounced and uninvited, but your school sounded like a place worth visiting, and since I was in the area I thought I’d stop by, see what you had going on here… Besides, our conversation got cut short.” He said as he stopped just ahead of her, eyes drawn to the little boy hanging from his knees on the monkey bars, staring back at him.  Myrna watched him regard the little boy, a kind look on his face.

 

“Son, did you know you’re upside down?” He asked, Thomas nodding from where he was hanging, his face slowly starting to turn pink from the blood running into his head.

 

“I’m practicing.” He said again, Myrna waiting to see what Bruce’s response was.

 

“Practicing?” Bruce asked, Thomas sighing as he repeated himself, almost annoyed that the adults in the room weren’t connecting the dots he was laying down for them.

 

“Yes, to be Batman… Because bats hang upside down.” He said, finally pulling himself up straight again and then dropping to the ground, walking toward the man in the well tailored suit.  “Do you know Batman?” he asked, Bruce taking a second, looking up as though he were thinking hard about it.

 

“Can’t say that I do… I know he’s been around for a long time though and probably should retire soon… So keep practicing hanging upside down, he might need you to take over for him someday.” He responded, the little boy’s face breaking into a wide smile at the thought that Batman would pass his mantle to him.  It was so sweet and genuine that Myrna looked at Bruce with fresh eyes, grateful that at least in this case he had said something that made the little boy’s confidence soar.  Thomas, thrilled with the news that Batman would call on him to take on the cowl someday started to run for the field where many of his classmates were playing together, preparing to tell them what he was sure they’d all want to know be just as excited as him; he stopped before he got too far, running back and throwing his arms around Myrna’s waist to give her as big of a hug as a five year old with short arms could manage.  He looked up at her, a toothy smile still practically breaking his cheeks.

 

“I’m gonna be Batman, Miss Myrna!” He said, Myrna smiling down at him, lifting a hand to ruffle his hair.

 

“I know! But not until you’re like-- 50, otherwise I’ll be worried about you all the time.” She said, the little boy rolling his eyes before shooting off across the playground to tell all of his friends.  When he was gone, she turned back to Bruce and smiled.

 

“You have no idea how much that meant to him.” She said, bringing her hands in front of her and lacing her fingers as she walked towards him, still keeping an eye on the kids around her.  Bruce shrugged, playing it off, though internally if it made her happy that he had made the boy happy, then he’d readily tell any kid who wanted to hear it they could be Batman… Though he would never actually wish such a thing on anyone.

 

“Well, what kid doesn’t want to hear they can dress up like a giant bat and run around the city after bedtime?” He said facetiously, but was surprised when rather than laugh, she gave him a look that pretty clearly told him she disagreed.

 

“I’m not sure what kind of life Batman had to lead him to fighting crime and living behind a mask-- but I know what kind of life that little boy has and I can only pray he turns out like Batman did.  Batman is his hero.” She said and by the look in her eyes, Bruce could tell she meant that.  He could see she worried about more than keeping the doors of her school open.  While figuring out who had taken his drive and where she would be next, he had spent a little time reading up on one, Myrna Swift.  While it was true, as with any non-profit, there was always a struggle to keep the lights on, Myrna was doing the best she could to keep everything going while making sure her staff was paid and her students got an education and food in their bellies.  Based on the area, it was one of the poorest in Gotham, public schools wouldn’t touch it, much less private schools, which is why he could see when he looked at Myrna while she talked about her students, she was aware that not all of them had a life worth envying.  Despite his wealth, which many would assume would make life everything a man could want, Bruce felt it keenly, what she meant.

 

“Then I hope he does too.” He said, allowing himself a moment of pride that she didn’t seem opposed to the idea of Batman, something that excited him more than it should.  He had told himself on the way here that he was genuinely interested in seeing what the Swift Academy had to offer and what Wayne Enterprises could do as a potential benefactor.  He had done battle in his own mind that it could be a business proposition and nothing more, that Swift Academy might get the help it obviously needed and his company would get a boost in the goodwill department.  That same mind argued back that it was idiotic he was even bothering presenting it that way to himself when he knew very well, if it had nothing to do with seeing Myrna again he would have sent someone from the financial department to see what kind of partnership could be made, to even further the idiocy of his point, he probably would have bothered telling the financial department where he was going this afternoon at all.  In fact his company preferred it when he stayed out of it until all the t’s were crossed and the i’s dotted so they could trot him out with an oversized check with his signature blown up to show just how generous they were.  He knew he should have let it alone, he knew he had work to do and meeting her, now of all times, was the worst timing there could be.  

 

He knew that.

 

He saw her now though, kneeling to help a student tie their shoes to keep them from tripping and sending them off with a hug and a smile, saw her stand and scan the playground to make sure everyone was ok, pushing locks of her red hair back from her face as it escaped a silver  barrette in the shape of a dragonfly, clasped at the back of her head.  He hadn’t realized how long it was, reaching halfway down her back, shining deep red in the afternoon sun.  He liked it down.  Really liked it down. He liked her smile, he liked her attitude, he liked her sense of humor, he liked how much she cared about those less fortunate than her... Until she gave him reason not to, there wasn’t much he didn’t like about her and it wasn’t often he said that.  Ever.  

 

It took him a second to realize he wasn’t the only one watching someone, eyes boring a hole in his head as he looked around and realized a slight, dark haired woman with purple glasses and an excited look on her face was watching him unabashedly from where she stood until she practically warped across the playground to get to Myrna.

 

“Myrna-- I see we have a guest!” She said, Myrna shaking her head and laughing.

 

“Yes, Penelope, we have a guest.  Mr.  Wayne, this is one of my teachers, Miss Penelope Melendez-- Also, occasionally I refer to her as my best friend.” She said eyeballing her friend, waiting for the usual Penni-ism to make its appearance.

 

“Bruce, please and occasionally?” Bruce asked, seeing the two of them were clearly close as it seemed they were having a telepathic conversation with each other.  Penni looked at him and smiled with delight.

 

“Oh, I’m too much for her sometimes, Mr. Wayne.” She said, a hint of an accent coming through that matched her exuberance, “I might have been a little curious about a photo of you two in the Gotham Free Press this morning…” She said, Myrna staying silent but clearly becoming uncomfortable as seemed to be her style when she was the center of attention.  Bruce nodded in understanding, he liked this woman too-- Myrna had good taste in friends, because despite her teasing, this one obviously had her friend in mind, keeping a close watch on him and how he reacted to her.

 

“I see… Well, I’m sorry about that, I tried talking them down last night, but I guess they’ve gotta eat too-- I didn’t see it, was it at least a good photo?” He asked, Penni nodding a vigorous yes, while Myrna shook her head slowly no.

 

“Oh, come on Myr, you looked great.” She said poking her friend in the side with her elbow.  Before Myrna could say more, a ruckus broke out at the edge of playground, grabbing her attention.

 

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” she looked at Penni, pointing at her matter of factly, “Be good!” she said, hurrying toward the sound.  Bruce tracked her path as she moved towards the noise, from what he could see, one of the school’s security guards was talking to a blonde man just at the edge of the playground, his car parked haphazardly, the driver door hanging open as he spoke in raised tones with the guard.  It was a little concerning to him that Myrna was walking straight towards this, when all it said to him was “trouble”.  Bruce looked back to Penni who seemed unphased by it and looked back up at him.

 

“This happens a lot.” She said simply, Bruce imagining it did, 20 years hip deep in crime-fighting and he knew what happened a lot in the city.

 

“Don’t worry about her.  She knows how to handle this kind of circus.” Penni added, Bruce meeting her gaze and allowing a half smile to break across his face.

 

“That obvious, huh?” he asked, Penni throwing her hands up, in a ‘ya got me’ sort of way.

 

“I’m Puerto Rican… My people invented being obvious-- I know it when I see it.” She said, Bruce letting out a light laugh.

 

“I’ll take your word for it. Though, if I could be a little more obvious-- I was hoping to ask Myrna to an event tonight at a museum uptown.  Now that I’m here, I remember her parents saying they were going to meet her for dinner later tonight…” He started, not planning on interrupting her time with her family but he had barely gotten the words out before Penni pulled her phone out of her pocket, opening it to texts, putting up a finger to indicate giving her a moment.  A few seconds later she looked up, shoving the phone back into her pocket.

 

“She’s free.”

 

“I distinctly remember her father saying something about Fabrizi’s…” Bruce protested, but not too hard, knowing it was wrong of him to support this kind of behavior, but then again...  Penni smiled at him, seeing right through the protesting.

 

“Believe me-- her mother has been texting me all day asking if she’s said anything about you… They’ll find another night to have Italian.” She said, Bruce smiling at her, he really did like this woman.

 

“You’re surprisingly fine with signing her up for a black tie event.” He said, Penni’s eyes rounding out to the size of saucers.

 

“Holy crap-- she’s gotta dress up?” She asked, Bruce nodding, thinking maybe Penni would rethink her plans, instead, the woman seemed even more thrilled.  “Oh-- then I am MORE than fine with changing her plans…” She said with a delighted cackle.

 

“Shall I pick her up around 7:30 tonight?” He asked, Penni nodding that she would be ready; but the moment between them was short-lived, as yelling drew their attention again and they realized the blonde man who had been stopped by the security guard was now screaming at both the guard and Myrna.

 

“DON’T TOUCH ME, MAN-- YOU CAN’T KEEP ME FROM MY KID AND NEITHER CAN THIS BITCH.” They heard him yell as the guard placed a hand on the man’s chest to keep him back from Myrna, who was still speaking low enough neither Bruce or Penni could hear her.  Penni looked at Bruce with a pained look on her face before heading to gather the kids up, most of them hearing the man yelling and puddling together in groups to watch their school’s founder being mistreated right before their eyes.

 

“Ok guys, it’s time to go inside, everyone line up with your teachers, walk straight into the building, no meandering!” She said with a chipper tone, though her eyes kept flashing back to where her friend stood with the guard, trying to get the man to calm down.

 

“I DON’T CARE WHAT MY DAMN EX-WIFE BROUGHT YOU, HE’S MY SON, I’LL TAKE HIM IF I WANT TO, GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!” He hollered more as the kids were taken into the school by doors opposite where he stood, Bruce walked forward, already on the offensive as the man spoke to Myrna so disrespectfully.  As he got closer, he finally heard Myrna explaining for what was likely the hundredth time already, they had a court order on file that prevented him from taking his son from school grounds: she warned if he continued, she would be forced to call the police and it would only make it worse for him and his son.  The man, who was beginning to look familiar to him, didn’t seem to care, likely because he was drunk, based off his bloodshot eyes, inability to park his car and stand up straight.

 

“YOU PEOPLE GOT NO RIGHT TO KEEP MY KID FROM ME, NONE!  WHAT HAPPENS WITH HIS MOM AND ME ISN’T YOUR BUSINESS.” He screamed, Myrna agreeing with him.

 

“You’re right, Mr. Cooper, it isn’t my business.  What IS my business is your son’s and the entire student body’s safety; aside from the court order, you are clearly inebriated and I don’t want that near my students.  I need you to leave the grounds now. I am happy to call you a cab if you don’t think you can drive.”

 

“OH DON’T FUCKING PATRONIZE ME, BITCH!  I CAN FUCKING DRIVE JUST FINE-- BUT YOU BETTER FUCKING BELIEVE YOU WON’T LIKE ME WHEN I’M DONE WITH YOU.” He spat out, hands clenching at his side.  Bruce sped up until he was only a couple feet away from the trio.

 

“Hey!  You need to watch your mouth.” He said, the drunkard looking up from Myrna to him, sticking his hand up and giving Bruce the finger.

 

“Shuddup, you fucking hero.  No one asked your opinion.” He said, Myrna’s face blanching at his rudeness.

 

“Mr. Cooper, that’s _enough_.  You might think your behavior is acceptable, but it is not. Last warning: leave, or the police will come and force you to leave." She said, the man that Bruce was having a difficult time not jumping and pummeling into the concrete spat on the ground near Myrna’s feet, not moving until she looked over at the guard.

 

“Joe, please call 911, I believe GCPD has said he can be restrained until they arrive…” She began, the blonde man finally taking her seriously as he backed away toward his car.

 

“Ok, ok, ok, I’m leaving--” He said as he groped for his driver side door, heaving himself into the car unceremoniously, nearly braining himself on the frame, “Don’t think this is over though.” He added as he managed to get the door shut

 

“Mr. Cooper, it is absolutely over.” She said as he reversed the car and drove stupidly out of the parking lot, Myrna turned back to the guard.

 

“Call GCPD anyway, let them know he violated his court order, threatened staff and is now likely driving under the influence.” She said, the guard nodded, pulling his phone out of his pocket and walking away to make the call.  Myrna turned to face Bruce, an embarrassed look on her face.

 

“Mr. Wayne, I’m so sorry you saw that…  Unfortunately this is a common occurrence around here. I’m just glad it didn’t go any further than that.”

 

“Mr. Wayne?  I thought we were past all that ceremony…  My name is Bruce.” He said, the tired look in her eyes telling him her good humor was gone thanks to that lunatic.  He moved forward and took her hand in his.

 

“It takes a lot more than a drunken fool to offend me, Myrna.  He’s gone now--” the sound of sirens alerting them to the fact the GCPD was on the case. “... And it looks like he’ll be gone for a while now.  You and the kids are safe, and that’s all that matters.” He said, Myrna looking up at him, the corners of her mouth curling up into a smile he was happy to enjoy.  He walked her back to the school, as Joe the security guard stayed outside, waiting for the police to arrive for a statement.  Myrna sighed as they walked through the door of her office.

 

“They’ll probably want a statement from me too.  It isn’t the first time he’s done this.” She said, a mix of disgust and sadness in her voice.  Bruce was understanding of her concern, but after so many years as Batman, he had a significantly harder time caring about what happened to people who behaved like animals.

 

“Likely, but if they’ve caught him, it won’t take much to keep him locked up at this point.  You shouldn’t have to worry about him.” He said hoping that would ease some of her worries.  Apparently it did not.

 

“I’m not worried for my sake--” She said looking up at him, “I’m worried for his son, this will devastate him.”

 

“There’s nothing you could have done to change this, Myrna.  His father made his choices, now he’s dealing with the consequences, maybe it’ll make him come to his senses.” He responded, knowing her well enough at this point to realize this would bother her for awhile.  He didn’t have much time to try anyway, as GCPD officers entered the building looking for her, Joe the guard following not far behind.  Bruce making his goodbyes quick, garnering at least one smile from her before he left.  As he walked away, he saw Penni walking her class to another activity, she smiled and gave him a thumbs up before she disappeared down the hallway-- he could only hope Myrna would be as excited as her friend appeared to be about their impending evening. As he walked outside, the flash of police lights cutting through the once peaceful afternoon, casting strange shadows on the grounds that had just housed the delighted yells of children.  

 

What a way to end a day.

 

_4:30pm_

 

Penni burst through the door of Myrna’s office, the school otherwise quiet as the students had been dismissed for home awhile ago.  Her purse and computer bag slung over her shoulder as she prepared to leave.  Myrna looked up from her own computer, confused for a second by the sudden intrusion.

 

“Pack your bags and get your purse, loser, we’ve got places to go!” Penni said as Myrna glanced at her watch.  

 

“Penni, I still have things to do, the visit from the cops took forever and kept me from getting most of my paperwork done-- I have a half hour more of work at least and then I have to get ready for dinner with my parents.” She responded but Penni shook her head in the negative.

 

“First, there’s nothing on your desk that can’t wait--” She put a hand up as Myrna began to protest, “Secondly, check your phone.  I think you’ll find your plans have changed for the evening.” She said with an authority that made Myrna worry.  Whenever Penni told her to check her phone, it usually meant she had been conspiring with someone to try to get Myrna out of the house.  Which wasn’t always a bad thing, because Myrna wasn’t known for socializing and was stupidly stubborn about it.  Which meant her far more extroverted friend had to stoop to drastic measures.  

 

“What did you do?” She asked, Penni shrugging as though she were completely innocent.  Dropping her pen onto the stack of papers just ahead of her, Myrna warily picked up the cellphone sitting nearby that had almost collected dust after not being used for the majority of the day.  Pressing the home button, Myrna realized she had several missed text messages from her mother and one from a number she didn’t recognize.  Sliding the notifications open, she was bombarded by excited marks and capital letters, reading from the latest up, she was only more confused.

 

**4:00pm**

**_Mom:_ ** _Have fun tonight, honey!  Tell me ALL about it when you get home!_

**3:00pm**

**_Mom:_ ** _Since you’re not answering me, either you don’t want me to come or you’re busy-- I really hope you’re not staying late at work today! ;0)_

**2:00pm**

_**Mom:** I read up on this museum gala, it’s kind of a big deal… Do you have makeup for tonight?   _

**1:30pm**

_**Mom:** Your father thinks I need to let you be a grown up, but what does he know?  Just let me know if you decide you want me to come over. _

**1:20pm**

**_Mom:_ ** _Do you want me to come help you find a dress?_

**1:15pm**

**_Mom:_ ** _What are you going to WEAR?!  Send me pictures when you figure it out!_

**12:45pm**

**_Mom:_ ** _Penni just told us about your invitation from MR. WAYNE!  Your father and I are SO EXCITED you have way better plans than eating dinner with us!  GO GET HIM!”_

 

Myrna looked up at Penni, she could tell from what she had seen so far that Penni had indeed set something up for her, but what her mother was talking about was still remaining to be seen.  Penni had a giant grin on her face, so she could only assume her friend had made sure it would include high heels and more hair product.  She looked back down to her phone and clicked to her last unread notification, the number she hadn’t recognized.

 

 **_513-423-5555:_ ** _Didn’t get to talk to you about tonight after the drunk ruined the mood.  I left everything in your very capable, occasional best friend’s hands.  Looking forward to 7:30. -B.W._

 

Myrna’s eyes snapped back up to Penni’s, her face having a difficult time landing on what she was feeling because it seemed to change by the second.  Her mouth opened, jawing up and down as she tried to come up with the words.

 

“What.  Did.  You.  DO?!” She demanded, Penni brushing it off and gesturing for her to follow her out the door.

 

“You’re welcome-- Now let’s go, I know you don’t have a dress for this shindig.” She answered, walking out without her friend, but definitely hearing her as she protested.

 

“What?  Wait, what do I need a dress for?”


	3. Museum Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce takes girl to museum gala... Bruce makes mistake of taking girl museum gala he's tracking a woman of wonder down at.

By 5pm, Penni had her friend in a dressing room at a local boutique with a handful of dresses to try.  Myrna had raged the whole way to the shop they were at and was still grumbling about boundaries and having no business being at black tie museum galas as she shut the dressing room door behind her.

 

“You and my mother-- between the two of you I’m going to lose my mind.” She said, Penni rolling her eyes as she found one of the overstuffed chairs by the tri fold mirror set up just outside the dressing rooms.

 

“Oh, stop.” She said, settling herself in the seat, hearing the sound of hangers squeaking on the rack inside the room as Myrna started to choose which one she wanted to try on first.  “It frustrates me that you are so resistant to having a life… Especially when it seems like one is working very hard to find you.” She added, Myrna snorting from behind the closed door, her work dress dropping into a pile onto the floor.

 

“And everyone seems so sure that’s what’s happening here.  Won’t you be surprised when it’s not what you’re all hoping.”

 

“What are you, a nun?  So what if he’s not Prince Charming?  Let yourself enjoy his attention, see how the other side of the tracks lives and then move on if that’s how it goes.  Just make sure he regrets losing what he had on your way out...” She said, though there wasn’t a response as the dressing room door opened and Myrna stepped out in her first gown, a disgusted look on her face.  Even Penni was taken aback by its ugliness, surprised that what had looked like a regular black evening gown with gold accents was actually not remotely a regular black evening gown with gold accents.  In fact, now that it was on, they could see it wasn’t something anyone should wear, but certainly not something Myrna would wear.  From her hips down the fabric between the skirt front and back was sheer, everything visible to whomever was looking, just the act of walking put the wearer in danger of exposing everything, which some might find awesome, but was not what Penni or Myrna were going for; the gold accents that had been attractive earlier just accentuated that fact leading up to a practically sheer bodice as well, showing the swell of Myrna’s breasts a little too well.  Penni let out a revolted snort as she looked at the dress.

 

“What the hell is that?” She asked, Myrna shaking her head.

 

“A mistake… This dress is a mistake.” She said retreating back into the dressing room.  

 

“No kidding… We want him to imagine what delights await him… Not give it away before he unwraps it.  Yeesh.” Penni said, she could practically hear Myrna rolling her eyes as the abomination she had just tried on was tossed into the not a chance in hell pile, both hoping some of their other options were actually options.

 

It took another half an hour and several dresses, some pretty but not quite right for the event, others just as terrible as the black one and it almost seemed like a lost cause until Myrna walked out in the very last dress she had brought in with her.  Penni looked her up and down a grin spreading across her face as she looked her friend over.  She whistled as Myrna vogued for her, turning to show her the details of this dress.

 

“Oh, Myrna-- This is the one.” She said after a few seconds of admiring it, she could tell from the look on her friend’s face that she too knew that this was the dress and thankfully so as they were quickly running out of time.  After rushing to change back into her own clothes, run to checkout with her dress, the two leaped into the van and sped home, Penni listing off everything they had left to finish before Bruce arrived, although nervous, Myrna was starting to get excited too.  She didn’t know how to feel about the situation really, she was a practical woman and often lived under the opinion that she was just going through life doing the best she could and most people didn’t see her.  She knew Bruce Wayne had seen her, she just didn’t understand why.  There were so many reasons why he shouldn’t, so many reasons why he might have and many of those reasons were concerning if any of them were accurate.  She was reluctant to believe it was actually because there was interest in her.  

 

This was chaos for her.  It was exhilarating but also terrifying for someone who was loathe to live her life without there being some order to it.

 

She rushed to shower, scrubbing off the day until her skin was soft and clean, finishing in record time until she was sitting in front of her bedroom vanity to put on her makeup; trying to keep it as simple as she normally did, but letting Penni talk her into putting on a little eyeliner to accentuate her eyes and a slightly darker and sexier lipstick from her own collection to make her mouth look kissable, even from Myrna’s perspective.  While she finished that up, Penni blew dry her friend’s hair, brushing it out until it shown.  

 

“Should I put it up like I did last night?” Myrna asked as she regarded her hair in the mirror, Penni smiling as she shook her head no.

 

“Then how?” She asked, Penni parting Myrna’s hair as it normally was, taking two parts on either side of her head and twisting them and then clasped it in the back with the dragonfly barrette from earlier.  It was a silver filigree, shaped delicately as a dragonfly, its eyes two small crystals that sparkled when light hit them.  The style was pretty and simple, which worried Myrna.

 

“I wear that all the time!” Myrna protested, but Penni nodded.

 

“I know, that’s why you should wear it now, you love it and it’s beautiful.  Plus it looks good with your dress.”

 

“And my hair down?  It’s black tie, not an expert but every woman there is going to have their hair up.” She said, starting to fret about not fitting in and looking out of place.  Penni smiled again as she tightened up the barrette at the back of her friends head and then loosened some at the front so it lay across her brow and framed her face.

 

“Right… Don’t be like all the others… You’re not there for them and I have a feeling someone will appreciate it… Trust me on this one.” She said looking at her friend in the mirror.  Taking a deep breath Myrna nodded, standing up from the vanity bench and picked her new gown up from where it lay on the bed.  She slid it over her head, adjusting it over the slip she had been wearing until everything was settled and she was satisfied it was hanging on her body correctly.  Penni stepped back to regard their work and was thrilled.

 

“Girl… If he doesn’t drop dead after seeing how gorgeous you look tonight, he is blind and stupid and I’ll cut him.” She said, Myrna looking down and blushing at her friend’s compliments.  She wasn’t about all this fuss, she was definitely more of a sweatpants, bag of cheetos and a Netflix binge kind of girl, but she looked at herself in the mirror and for the first time in a long time she felt beautiful.  Whether he gave her a second look tonight, she’d at least be satisfied she looked good being ignored.  She only had a moment longer to think when the doorbell of the house rang, Penni looking at her friend excitedly.

 

“I love it when a man’s right on time… Quick, put your earrings in and get your coat on!” she said before she headed for the front door.

 

“Why would I put my coat on now?” Myrna said laughing at Penni’s insistence.  Penni shook her head at how naive her friend could be.

 

“Myrna, just trust me, when a man asks a woman to join him at an event like this, he wants to be seen with her… Doesn’t hurt to make him wait to see what he’s getting until he gets there too.  Then everyone ELSE gets to see HIS reaction and you’re the winner.” She said, Myrna’s brows drawing together as she realized her friend had thought about this far too thoroughly.  Penni rolled her eyes at Myrna.

 

“Oh my _God_ , would you just do it?!” She said before she left Myrna’s room to get the door.  Myrna could hear the door open and the muffled sounds of Penni inviting Bruce in, hearing his deeper, but still muffled voice as they made conversation.  She grabbed the ivory colored floor length coat (that thankfully had been on sale at the same boutique, since her dress was not) that had also been laying on her bed,  buttoning the single button just under her bust and checking to make sure nothing was amiss before she left her room.

Closing the door softly behind her, she headed for the stairs hearing Penni talking to Bruce from the living room.  Penni sounded delighted, which wasn’t that surprising, given she’d orchestrated this evening single-handedly.  She walked carefully down the stairs, Penni had insisted on heels too, when Myrna would much rather have worn flats.  She always felt like she was off-balance in these things and the last thing she needed was to tumble down the stairs in all this get up and faceplant in front of Bruce Wayne.  She heard Penni laugh at something Bruce must have said as she focused on not dying on the stairs.

 

“She was annoyed with me for making plans without talking to her, but she’s definitely excited.” She heard her say, shaking her head, she kept on down the stairs, hearing Bruce reply.

 

“I’m glad to hear it, I hope she’s not too annoyed with me for suggesting her plans change tonight.” He said as she hit the last step, the two who had been standing in the living room looking up as they heard her come around the corner.  Though he had his own coat on, it hung open, showing an expertly cut and fit tuxedo underneath, his bow tie equally expertly tied around his neck.  He looked incredibly handsome with his hair brushed neatly into a part on one side, a light brush of graying strands at his temples and a permanent five o’clock shadow that only added to the appeal of him.  It really wasn’t that difficult to see why women fell over themselves to get at him, even if he didn’t have more money than God, there wasn’t much about him, at least physically, that wasn’t attractive.  She felt her stomach drop and prayed with herself she wasn’t going to throw up and if she could manage not to look she was going to, that would also be great.

 

She hadn’t really had time to process between the time Penni had told her what she would be doing tonight and now, but now was here and she had no idea what she was doing.  She wasn’t someone who was invited, much less went to parties unless it was to benefit the academy; she had next to no social life, if it weren’t for the fact she lived with her best friend she probably wouldn’t even have one and frankly, she hadn’t been on a date of any kind in almost eight years-- A relationship she had been in long term ending poorly, her focus turning to her work as a teacher, then the attack on Metropolis had happened and the last two years had been focusing on her recovery and her school’s success.  She didn’t want to make a fool of herself, that was her main goal tonight.  She was pretty sure somehow she’d manage it though.  She didn’t see Penni looking them both up and down because she was too busy looking at him and at the moment he was too busy looking at her.

 

“Myrna.” He said, Myrna smiling and walking forward to meet him.

 

“Bruce.” She replied, Penni rolling her eyes that two of them were clearly about each other right now, even if at least one of them was an idiot who identified as her best friend and couldn’t see how much someone was digging her.

 

“Oooook, you two, have a good time, don’t get the cops called on you while you’re at this rave, i mean museum gala and Mr. Wayne, she doesn’t actually have a curfew, so, keep her out… However long.” She said, Myrna looking away from Bruce to her friend with a slightly horrified look on her face, because she _knew_ Penni too well.  Coughing, Myrna gestured toward the door.

 

“Before she makes this any weirder, shall we?” she asked, Bruce smiling and nodding, heading for the door and pulling it open for the two of them.  She walked out into the cool November evening, the chilled air cooling of her already warm face.  As she walked down the front stairs of the house, she stopped, looking at the shiny and clearly expensive car sitting in her driveway.

 

“Uh… You’re sure you want me to get into that?” She said laughing, Bruce looking at her confused.

 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

 

“Because it’s so clean…  I’ve never belonged in a car that doesn’t have dog fur and play sand all over the backseat.” She said, Bruce laughing.

 

“Well, you seem clean right now, so I think it’s probably alright.” He responded opening the passenger side door for her to get in.  She slid in, pulling in her coat and dress with her to keep the door from shutting on it.  She looked up at the front windows of the house as Bruce turned to walk around the car to the driver’s side door and found Penni watching from the window, when she saw Myrna looking at her, wiggled her eyebrows and did her own strange version of a happy dance, smiling widely at her friend.

 

“Lord, help me.” She said, quickly covering as the other door opened and Bruce got into the car next to her.  “My dad would love this car.” She said as she looked at the sleek lines of the dashboard and controls.  He would love it, actually, he’d probably be talking Bruce up about it right now if he were here.

 

“Your father appreciates a nice car then?”

 

“Oh, you know it, has an imaginary garage in his head of all the ones he’d have if he could… Pretty sure an Aston Martin would be somewhere on that list…”

 

“You know your cars?” He asked, not really surprised if she did, she seemed the type to listen when someone told her about their passions.  

 

“Uh, I know what _this_ car is… A 57, right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And there ends my knowledge.” She said with a laugh, Bruce joining her as he put the car in reverse and they set off toward one of Gotham’s museums. “I listen when he talks about cars, I get why he loves them, but honestly as long as I can get from point a to point b, it doesn’t really matter to me what they are…  Probably why I drive a mom van and I’m not even a mother.” She said looking at Bruce as he drove them through town, it was nice looking at him without other people milling around, he seemed, for once in the short time she had known him, to be relaxed.  He nodded even though he was still focused on the road as they drove.

 

“I get that… I drive the Aston for special occasions, but I have a more-- _utilitarian_ vehicle for everything else.” He responded.

 

“What, you just have a regular limo and not a _stretch_ limo?” She asked, giving him a teasing smile as he allowed himself a look up from the road, he laughed and shook his head.

 

“No, I just have this and the one helicopter.” He replied making her laugh too as she turned her head to look out her window to watch Gotham go by.  She’d had her coat on before she ever came downstairs, so he hadn’t been allowed a peek before they got to the museum, but from what he could see he knew it would be worth the wait-- He suspected her friend Penni had something to do with it as Myrna didn’t strike him as the type to worry about that kind of thing.  He was drawn to her eyes more than ever tonight as the Gotham scenery lost its appeal after a moment and she looked back at him from her seat, the light from passing cars and streetlights brightening them as he did.  She had left her hair down tonight, only a bit pulled back with the dragonfly barrette she seemed to favor, some of it left to frame her face but she pushed it back out of habit.  He _really_ liked it down.  She had a small set of diamond earring studs in her ears, nothing ostentatious or gaudy.  The rest was hidden beneath an ivory colored coat and he was looking forward to seeing it.

 

They made small talk the rest of the way, learning a little bit more about her, her academy, her life, her family; Bruce finding her easy enough to talk to that he had to remind himself that there were things she shouldn’t and probably didn’t want to know about him.  He didn’t want to tell one more person the bare minimum, the lie really, of who he was, of what he did-- Being the CEO of Wayne Enterprises might have been enough for some, but there was so much more than that, to be able to confide in someone about everything; that was a gift he would likely never receive.  He knew he had Alfred, who had not only been his legal guardian but a father to him ever since his parents had been murdered, but Alfred was Alfred.  He obviously couldn’t have what he knew was missing, even though Alfred reminded him every opportunity he could manage it that he was disappointed he hadn’t as he put it, ‘Taken a wife and made many smaller Waynes’ by now.  To wake up next to someone, to be able to hold her when the dreams came, perhaps finally find some solace in someone more innocent than him when he got home from the things he had done to keep Gotham safe.  If he even got home at all.  And then he remembered why he fought himself every time he felt himself getting too involved.  He couldn’t put someone else through what he made Alfred go through almost every night as the Batman-- he couldn’t put a woman he loved nor any child he might have with her through; going through life without him like he’d had to without his parents.  He could give up being Batman, someday he would have to, when he was old and frail-- or dead… But if he tried to give it up now when he was still able to do something to stop the monsters of the world, he’d regret it and if he waited until he wasn’t able to do it anymore, it would be too late to have the life he wanted with someone.  He was the epitome of rock and hard place.  It sobered him for a moment and he realized it had caused him to go quiet, Myrna looking at him from the corner of her wondering if she’d already managed to say something that put him off.  He smiled at her from behind the wheel, trying to be reassuring that she hadn’t done anything wrong.

 

“Sorry, I’ve been to this museum once or twice but I always forget where the parking lot entrance is…” He said, glad they were actually close enough for him to not necessarily lie about why he was quiet.  As he got them parked, he came around to open her door for her, but she was already out of the car.  She shrugged as he made it to her, looking a little sheepish.

 

“You’re lucky I let you drive… I’m used to opening my own doors!” She said, Bruce smiling and offering his arm to her.

 

“There are worse things than a girl who can open her own doors.”  He said as she took the proffered arm and let him lead her into the museum.  Like muggers and murderers and Kryptonian aliens that could burn the planet to charcoal.  They climbed the stairs of the museum, getting to the front door that was being opened by uniformed doormen.  They entered the building, the cool night air being replaced by the museum’s warmth, set to keep people comfortable this evening.  They could already hear the buzz of people talking among the relics and ancient pieces the museum had to offer.  They stopped by the coat check, Bruce shrugging off his own and handing it to the waiting checker, trying hard not to be obvious when Myrna reached for the button of her coat, popping it free and sliding it off her shoulders.

 

 _“Thank you, Penni.”_ He thought to himself as she handed her coat over.  She wore a floor length gown in a soft pink-- it had the smallest of trains that puddled just behind her; beading in half circles, reminiscent of the patterns of the 1920’s era was sewn all the way up the gown.  It wasn’t tight, but it hugged her just enough he could see the outline of her hips and up to the soft swell of her bosom, the gown reaching all the way to the curve of her neck, however, her arms and back just to the bottom of her shoulder blades were bare, the design allowing for more of the soft pink and beaded fabric to drape from her shoulders.  He wasn’t going to lie to himself, even though she looked beautiful, that was his favorite part of this gown, that small hint of her skin that he imagined was soft to the touch was going to be distracting tonight.  He had to remind himself he was still working-- even though he had genuinely wanted to see Myrna again, he wasn’t just here for her.  He knew how bad that sounded just in his head, out loud, any jury would convict him for being an ass for doing it, but he supposed those were risks he took for wanting it all.  He had wanted to see Myrna, a fact that was only made more true now that he had seen her in that dress and he wanted to catch up with the woman of mystery that had stolen his drive.  After some digging and a drawn out conversation with Nikki, the overly helpful organizer of the Friends of the Metropolis Library party, he had found out at least a name and potential workplace for the dark haired woman and from that had determined where she would be tonight.

 

Here.  At the gala he had also elected bring a woman he was interested in to.

 

He knew he was going to hell, but he assumed a long time ago that was the case and elected to continue anyway.  If he could get the whereabouts of his drive, then no one should be the wiser and he could get to know Myrna a little better, which was something he wanted, despite the ongoing battle about what he should or should not pursue with her.  He offered his arm again, Myrna accepting again and the two wandered into the heart of the museum.  They spent a few minutes looking at some of the priceless artifacts (though, they both commented at the same time people always say that, yet the museum no doubt had paid a hefty price for whatever it was they were looking at), Bruce pleasantly surprised despite her sometimes sarcastic humor that she enjoyed not only looking at history, but knew a great deal about some of the things they were looking at.  Obvious, really, as she was a teacher, but he hadn’t thought a kindergarten teacher would have to know much about the Bronze Age to be successful.  Then again, it was genuine, so he was likely underestimating her and he was sorry at the thought of doing so.  It was incredibly refreshing to be around someone who used the brain they had been given and not for illegal activities or to simper their way into his good graces.  As they walked to the next exhibit, he found himself admiring the view of her as she walked just ahead of him eyes peeled for the next find.  He could get used to this, watching her when she wasn’t watching him, take her in whenever he wanted to.

He was once again brought back to reality as they passed through the towering doorway of the exhibit and he saw through another exit the familiar outline of the woman who had his drive.  This time she wore a white beaded number with one full sleeve, the other arm bare and a gold armband wrapped around it, the back of her dress low cut, showing a strong back of her own; she stood with an older couple, talking about something no doubt museum related.  His heart sank as he realized he was going to have to make a quick exit from Myrna to get to her, an opening coming soon he saw as a gentleman with graying hair and a quick gait quietly interrupted, and had her walk with him away from the couple she had been talking to.  Catching up to Myrna as she began to examine a display of Greek jewelry, he let his hand come to rest on her lower back, Myrna jumping slightly as she had been so focused on the items in front of her.  She turned to see it was him and smiled brightly, he had come to enjoy seeing it and he hoped this coming confrontation went quickly so he might see it again soon.

 

“Myrna, would you excuse me for a moment? I need to take care of something.  Should only take a minute.” He said, seeing her smile falter for half a second but recovering quickly.  She nodded, encouraging him to get to it and that she’d be here when he got back.  He walked toward where he had seen the gentleman direct his quarry, he looked back as he walked away and saw that Myrna was back to inspecting the exhibit he was leaving her in.  He managed to come around a corner, just behind the older man and the dark haired woman, Diana Prince from the library party.  He overheard the man expressing great pride over the artifact before them, explaining that he had found the sword that cut the Gordian Knot and what a triumph it was.  Bruce knew it was a fake and from the somewhat stolid response from her, it appeared she did too.  As the older man departed, allowing Diana the opportunity to bask in his fortune in obtaining such a find, Bruce recognized now was his opportunity.

 

Meanwhile, Myrna wandered the exhibit she had been left to investigate alone.  She was trying not to take it as a bad omen that she’d already been left to her own devices fifteen minutes into this gala.  She wasn’t typically this concerned with the actions of others, but she supposed this time was different, she actually cared what Bruce thought of her, though she didn’t know why.  If she had already managed to bore him, what a humiliation that would be as she wandered around this museum with no reason to be there.  She tried looking at another round of Greek artifacts but found it had been infinitely more fun when she was with someone to talk about them.  After realizing she had spent the last five minute staring at the same long dead Greek soldier’s helmet, reading the placard next to it at least as many times, she finally looked up, eyes roving around the room and entryways into other exhibits.  She supposed she was looking to see if Bruce was coming back anytime soon, only to spot him in another exhibit directly across from where she was standing, with another, dark haired woman.

 

No.  Not a woman.  Goddess.

 

She wouldn’t necessarily have thought anything of it, if not for the fact she could see he had a hand on her arm pulling her closer to him as he whispered intimately into her ear.  Myrna could feel her heart sink as she watched him talking to her, the woman turning to face him and give him a brilliant smile, straightening his tie and patting his chest as though they were very familiar.   Mentally berating herself for being surprised when she knew full well this is what she should have expected, Myrna immediately looked away to keep her composure.  She read trashy magazines from time to time, she saw enough of the news to know that they weren’t being unnecessarily unfair, because apparently Bruce Wayne was exactly what they showed.  She couldn’t stand that even if just for a moment, she had allowed herself to believe she was at all special and had even wasted a second of her time on any of it.  Maybe Penni was right that she should live a little even if it wasn’t going to lead to anything worthwhile, but that’s just not who she was.  She wasn’t interested in being the next checked off the dance card; though why he would bother with someone with no notoriety of any kind was beyond her, but then again, he was a rich man who likely got bored; she was probably just entertainment for him.  Trying not to get worked up, Myrna took a deep breath, not uncommon to the ones she taught her students to do when they were upset and looked around for anything that might get her out of this quickly becoming humiliating situation.  A waiter passed her by with a tray of champagne in hand and although she didn’t drink, suddenly it seemed like a good idea.

 

“Thanks.” She muttered as she grabbed a champagne flute from the tray and looked for a suitable corner to shove herself into.  She didn’t know what she should do, she didn’t want to be as rude as him and Uber her way home without saying anything, but she also pretty much didn’t want to be here anymore.  Her original excitement of a night out with someone she had found attractive in a variety of ways draining right out of her into the cold marble floor she was standing on, in heels she hadn’t wanted to wear in the first place, to impress a man she clearly had no business trying to keep the attention of anyway.  Safely tucked in her corner, away from prying eyes, she pulled her phone out of her wristlet purse, pulling up her texts.  Since she had been so focused on the evening once they had left and ironically she hadn’t wanted Bruce to think she was rude, she hadn’t looked at it at all until now.  She could see she had a couple messages from her mother, responding to the photos she had sent of the finished product for the evening, telling her how beautiful she looked.  

 

“Well, look at me now, mom.” She said under her breath as she swiped back to her texts and opened Penni’s messages; her friend had blown up her phone with an impressive number of emojis, a few she knew weren’t entirely appropriate were anyone to question them.  She skipped through them, clicking on the message box and typing quickly.

 

**_8:30pm_ **

_“Have an Uber coupon I could use?  Thinking I might need a ride home.”_

 

She clicked send, the message being marked as read almost immediately and a text bubble popping up, indicating Penni was responding.  Penni must have been living on her phone, waiting for an update from her, too bad she didn’t have better news.  She didn’t have a chance to see the message as a shadow dropped over her phone.  Looking up she realized it must be her lucky night as the person looking down on her was none other than Leonard Berkowski.  Leonard ran what could only be described as a rival school, though his wasn’t nonprofit and quite frequently boasted things she could only dream of being able to afford for her students.

 

“Myrna!  My, my, I never thought I would see the day you’d want to come to a get together like this.” He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.  It was really all she needed to add to the kind of night she was having; the one person she truly despised in her field and realizing she was an idiot over a man.  

 

Perfect.

 

“Hello, _Leonard._ ” She responded, sliding her phone back into her wristlet, standing a little straighter and stepping out of her hidey hole.  She would be damned if Berkowski went back to the director to director network, as she knew he would and blab about finding Myrna Swift, cowering from the public, dumped fifteen minutes into a date because she was just that unpersonable.  The blonde haired jerk looked at her (eye to eye as they were both the same height, Leonard wasn’t particularly tall for a man, though he liked to think he was) from behind black rimmed glasses, swallowing an abnormal amount of times before responding.  It was just the kind of thing Leonard did, but Myrna decided tonight it was because his bow tie was tied too tight around his stupid neck.

 

“Honestly though, how did _you_ manage an invitation to such an event, I didn’t realize they were giving them out to just _anyone_ .” He said in a tone that liked to pretend it was being facetious but really wasn’t.  He truly thought she and her students were the redneck hillbillies of Gotham and weren’t worth a damn.  Which, at this point, Myrna could accept when thrown at _her_ , but the implication her kids were anything but magnificent was enough to make her want to punch him in his sneering face.  She took another deep breath, unclenching her fingers before she responded.

 

“Actually, I’m someone’s plus one-- _they_ invited me.  Seems I didn’t have to beg my way in.” She said, watching Leonard’s eyes bug a little at her suggestion that he would have to do such a thing to be invited to a gala on this level.  He let a slight sneer cross his face as he worked on his next move.

 

“Ah… Well, some of us weren’t blessed with access to such a benefactor… Oh-- Speaking of which, the Wellman Grant, I think I should tell you,” he continued with an annoyingly giddy lilt to his voice as he spoke, “I was able to get our school’s application in early last night, fast-tracked and everything.” He said, Myrna having to fight the urge to roll her eyes.  She looked down at the untouched champagne in her hand, the tiny bubbles it produced rising to the top, just like the seething rage she was starting to feel bubble up from her belly as she spoke to this cretin.  Never before had she detested such an arrogant, self-righteous… She looked up before she finished her thought.

 

“So you interrupted my drink to tell me you applied for a grant my school could use-- I assume to do me the courtesy of letting me know I shouldn’t bother?  Since, we both know, you believe your school is the superior program.” She said, Leonard not disagreeing with her in the slightest.

 

“You have to admit we do have an advantage.” He responded, only further stoking the infuriation in Myrna, who was really hoping this would soon be the end of the conversation.

 

“Well, when your registration fees equal almost as much as one of my families makes in a year, yes, there would be one…” She shot back, Leonard unphased by her words, his impression of the situation was the redneck was upset over the inevitability of her school’s failure.  He was about to respond when Myrna realized he had gone a little green and his eyes were no longer focused on her.  She turned her head to look over her shoulder and realized Bruce had apparently finished his museum liaison and had either been rebuffed (unlikely) or he had promised the dark eyed mystery woman he’d drop the red-haired school marm off at home and meet her at their secret love nest in the next hour (likely); walking up behind her and shocking Leonard.  She grew even more annoyed as Leonard seemed to choke on his own tongue to try to speak.  The thought of any of Bruce Wayne’s billions paying for his next suit clearly making his mouth water.

 

“Oh for the love of… Mr. Wayne, Leonard Berkowski, Berkowski, Mr. Bruce Wayne.  Leonard is a… Colleague, sort of.” She said gesturing like a conductor to introduce the two to one another.  Leonard threw his hand out at the speed of light to shake Bruce’s, never one to miss an opportunity to try to beguile the rich into investing in his already overblown school.

 

“Mr. Wayne, I had no idea you would be here tonight, what a pleasure to meet you sir!  How is it you know our Myrna here?” He asked, Myrna internally retching at the thought of him suggesting she was his anything.  She and Bruce spoke at the same time, their stories not quite straight it seemed.

 

“We’re good friends.” He said.

 

“We’re acquaintances.” She said.

 

Bruce looked at her surprised at the suddenly professional tone she had taken.  She was staring this Berkowski down and taking great pains not to look at him.  He shook Leonard’s hand, the man’s weak grip giving him some idea of why Myrna didn’t appear fond of him.  The man didn’t seem to have noticed he and Myrna’s differing explanations, shaking Bruce’s hand just a little too long.

 

“Leave it to Myrna to keep knowing someone of your stature under wraps-- She never was good at sharing.” He said, a fake friendliness permeating at least ten square feet around them.  Bruce definitely knew why Myrna didn’t like him, _he_ didn’t like him and he had only known him for thirty seconds.

 

“Well, out of anyone, it’s me who should be telling people I know Myrna Swift… Though she seems very particular about her friends.” He said, Leonard rolling his eyes conspiratorially, Myrna’s flashing quickly up at him, recognizing the compliment he had tried to pay her, but returning her eyes firmly back on the twit in front of them.

 

“Don’t I know it.” He said as though he and Myrna _were_ besties, which was becoming more obvious by the second that that was **not** the case.  Myrna let out a breath and looked down at her bare wrist as though willing it to tell her the time.

 

“Oh, look at the time.” She said, breaking up the increasingly uncomfortable conversation that was about her as though she weren’t standing less than a foot away from everyone involved.  She looked at Leonard who was still making puppy dog eyes at Bruce and Bruce was so far down her shitlist she didn’t care to continue pretending this night had been that pleasant.

 

“Leonard, I think you should know-- The Wellman grant?  I knew you’d likely apply for it.” She said simply, Leonard flashing a fake white smile as though she were admitting defeat, Bruce on the other hand was silently waiting and cheering for her to land the uppercut he knew was coming as she leaned toward the rat-faced little man.  

 

“Which is why I applied for it four months ago… We just got our acceptance paperwork this Monday, for the full $70,000…” She continued, raising an eyebrow and tapped her mouth questioningly.  “Huh… I wonder what that means for those who applied too late.” She said as Leonard’s face went paperwhite and angry as the news broke over him.  Myrna tilted her head, her face set in a mildly concerned (but not really) look, she held out her untouched champagne.

 

“Have a drink, Leonard,” She said, finally feeling in her element, fighting against goons like Berkowski that claimed to be for education but in fact, were in it for whatever profit they could make, “it looks like you could use one.”

 

Leonard took the glass angrily from her, as though he were ready to chuck it across the room.  Myrna didn’t wait for Bruce as she walked away, heading for the coat check and whatever else she had to do to get out of this building-- out of these shoes, out of this dress, out of everything.  Bruce looked back at the man holding a full glass of champagne he hadn’t ordered and bruised ego that was going to take some time to stop smarting.  He tried to save face, turning back to Bruce and flashing his overly bright smile again.

 

“Mr. Wayne…” He started but Bruce held up a hand to silence him.

 

“I came with her.” He said, turning to follow Myrna, rather enjoying the spluttering sounds coming from behind him as he too walked away from a man who wasn’t often left choking on his own indignation.  As someone who frequently got to break the news to men like Leonard Berkowski, he had to admit, it never got old letting a self-absorbed son of a bitch know they weren’t getting what they wanted.  He was proud of Myrna for standing her ground and taking the smarmy little man down.

 

After Diana had told him she’d returned his drive already and told him off for not sharing, he’d come full circle back to where he had left Myrna and was surprised to find she wasn’t there anymore, searching a few exhibits over, he found her, standing off with the unpleasant man from earlier. He had heard the majority of the conversation as he had walked back to her and if it weren’t for the fact she was already in charge of a school he’d be offering her a job for handling it so well. Though, at the moment, he wasn’t too sure she’d accept it, the room had gotten a little cooler when he’d entered it and her unwillingness to look at him told him he had upset her; he could only assume she had figured out that his attention hadn’t totally been on her as it should have been given he had invited her here.  He hadn’t realized how it would affect him that she might be upset with him, it seemed ridiculous so soon into knowing her, but he wasn’t going to lie that he had felt a connection with her that he hadn’t felt with someone in a long time.  He really didn’t want that to change because of him, but he suspected he might have anyway.  He was halfway to the coat check, following Myrna when he was stopped by a mob of museum going red hatters that recognized him, wanting to introduce themselves to the infamous Bruce Wayne.  Although he tried to extricate himself from the group as quickly and politely as possible, he could see from over the tops of their heads that Myrna had already managed to obtain her coat and was pulling it over her shoulders as she walked out the front door of the museum.  

 

Grabbing the trailing end of her dress and holding it up off the ground, she kicked off her heels, grabbing them up with the hand holding her train, her toes uncurling happily from their shoe prison, despite a shiver running up her legs as her feet rested on the chilled concrete.  Digging her phone out of her wristlet once more, she saw the text from Penni that Leonard had interrupted.  A tearful emoji popped up next to an Uber coupon just as she had asked for.  Thankfully according to her app there was an Uber driver just around the corner that was waiting for a fare, a quick confirmation later and she walked toward it quickly, one to make sure her feet didn’t freeze of because she was NOT putting the heels back on and two, to make sure she wasn’t waiting for a ride on the museum stairs in case Bruce managed to catch up to her.  She didn’t know if he cared that she had disappeared without a word, she certainly didn’t expect him to come after her; she wouldn’t know what to say if he did.  At this moment, she just wanted to go home.  Much to her relief the driver was prompt and she was able to slide into the back of the warm car, it pulling out into Gotham’s evening traffic and toward her desired target at a healthy pace.  She didn’t look back at the museum’s entrance as she passed by, if she had, she might have seen Bruce push through the door at break neck speed after finally removing himself from the mob he’d been sucked into, realizing she was in the backseat of an Uber, eyes fixed ahead of her as it pulled away.  He stood in the cold evening air for a few more minutes eyes in the direction it had gone, realizing what a fool he’d been for handling things like he had, and now there she went without a word, harsh or otherwise and he didn’t know if he she would ever look at him again.


	4. The Morning After Disappointment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myrna thought a new day meant a fresh start and no Bruce Wayne... But... Did it really?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a late update-- I promise things will get juicier as time goes on, but Myrna has a little pride!

Thirty minutes later, Myrna slipped out of the back of her Uber, thanking the driver while practically running up the driveway into the house, her toes protesting being cold again.  Since it was barely 9:30pm, the lights were still on in the house and she knew Penni would be waiting for her inside.  Sighing she pushed the door open, walking through and tossing her heels unceremoniously in the closet by the door.  She didn’t want to look at them at the moment, she was pretty sure she’d have blisters in the morning, a further reminder of why one should never change who they were to impress another human being.  She could feel Penni staring at her from the couch in the living room, turning to look at her friend, Penni started to speak, but Myrna stuck up an index finger, indicating giving her a minute and trudged up the stairs, trying not to trip on her gown once more.  She got to her room and shut the door quietly behind her, leaning against it for a moment, finally alone and able to let herself feel what she’d been holding back because she had been in public.  She felt her eyes watering, which only made her mad, she hadn’t known him for that long, it shouldn’t be this upsetting, it’s not like even if it had gone well that anything would have come of it.  She swiped at her eyes, willing herself to stop being so dramatic and walked away from the door, yanking her gown up over her head and tossing it on her bed.  She dug around in her drawers until she found a pair of her favorite lounge pants and an oversized sweatshirt, divesting herself of all the intricate intimates she had been wearing under her dress and quickly replacing them with far more comfortable things.  Sitting down at the vanity in her room, She looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes redder from fighting back her disappointment at how the night had gone, she took a deep breath and grabbed her makeup remover from the table, wiping off all remnants of the failed evening out.  She took her earrings out and threw them on the vanity; setting her hair loose from her dragonfly clip, she twisted her hair into a braid over her shoulder and then wandered back down to the living room.  She rounded the corner only to find Penni had been busy, the coffee table now covered in every type of junk food they had, including Myrna’s favorite kind of Cheetos, mint oreos and at least four types of Halo Top ice cream and to top it all off, in the background, she heard the faint sound of the opening theme to the 1995 version of Pride and Prejudice, which was she and Penni’s go to series for dumb boy troubles.  They found solace in throwing pillows and chips at the TV when Mr. Darcy acted like an idiot, their dogs (Hank, Daisey and Jasmine) thrilled when either of them was suffering from their own IMS (Idiot Man Syndrome) because it meant they got snacks.

 

“I figured from your text it was bad, but I didn’t know if it was just chips and cookies bad or if it was chips, cookies, pop, ice cream and Colin Firth bad… So I erred on the side of caution and got everything…” She said from the couch, sitting cross legged with spoons ready in hand for their next adventure.  Myrna smiled at her, glad that she had a friend who understood that all she wanted to was to get fat and drown her troubles in delicious food while fantasizing about meeting a man who wasn’t a total tool.  She walked over to the couch and flopped on the extended sectional, throwing her legs out across it and sticking a hand out for the spoon Penni held for her.

 

“Might as well just crunch the chips and cookies up, add them to the ice cream and make soda floats out of them.” She said as the cool metal of the spoon met her fingers.

 

“That bad, huh?” Penni asked. She was sad for her friend: she hadn’t expected Bruce Wayne to be the perfect man; Lord knows he seemed to have some issues just looking at him, but he had certainly seemed more into Myrna than it appeared now.  She didn’t suppose someone who could have sent a fleet of messengers to invite her best friend to an event would have bothered showing up at her work if he hadn’t at least been serious about her saying yes.

 

“Oh, it was worse…” Myrna said sitting up and grabbing a pop from the table, cracking it open and taking a drink as Penni looked at her, waiting for her to share.  “Fifteen minutes, Penni-- Fifteen minutes is all it took for him to be swept off his feet by another woman.” She said sticking her spoon into the slowly melting top of one of the pints of ice creams sitting on the table.  Penni leaned back in her seat, eyebrows nearly disappearing into her hairline from the shock.

 

“Whhhhhhat?! Mira que cabrón, ojala y le entren unas diarreas de madre, para que no joda.” She said, Myrna only picking up on some of what she was saying in Spanish, but knowing it wasn’t good.  She shrugged, taking a bit of ice cream, as Penni pushed play on the remote, the light and cheery piano solo opening every episode of the Pride and Prejudice series making the evening seem a little less dreary now.  She sat back with her ice cream, Penni grabbing her own and sitting back too, but she knew her friend wasn’t ready to let this go.

 

“So he asks you to go to this museum gala doowop thing and then what-- thinks he sees something better?!  How?  Girl, you looked STUNNING, I made sure of that.” She said, flummoxed at the idea that someone could be so lame.  Myrna shook her head, no answers readily available to satisfy anyone’s curiosity tonight.

 

“Pretty sure he DID find something better, just would have been nice if he’d waited until I was not in the building before he made a move on her.” She said, taking another bite of ice cream, enjoying the cool minty flavor for a moment, Penni shaking her head, still in disbelief.

 

“What a mal parido, I mean, really-- WHAT A pedazo de maricón de mierda, I know he’s rich, but why does that mean he’s gotta be douchey rich?  I thought he’d at least be a gentleman for one evening… And no way she was better than you, no way.” She said, having a hard time putting into words, both english and spanish for what she felt for her friend’s evening.

 

“I don’t know, Penni-- maybe he was hungover and forgot he had this museum thing he needed a plus one for and I was just the first woman he remembered from the night before.  Lucky me… Super glad I bought a new dress for all of thirty minutes.” She said, she wasn’t angry, just tired.  Didn’t help feeling sorry for herself, but this ice cream certainly wasn’t hurting anything.  As she set the pint down and reached for her pop again, Penni turned up the volume a bit on their movie.

 

“Well, I hope whatever bimbo he did go home with has a raging STD and he realizes what an unhappy little man he is for treating my best friend like garbage, while also dealing with a painful burning sensation…” She uttered it as though she were casting a curse on the Wayne family name, making Myrna laugh.

 

“Oh, no way this woman had an STD.  She was gorgeous-- like didn’t even appear to be of this mortal world, beautiful.  Not really surprised she caught his eye; meanwhile, frumpy school teacher over here was just moseying through the museum looking at all the cool old stuff, like a total moron while her date was off schmoozing someone else.” She said, now she was a little upset.  What a waste of time!  “And get this, guess who was there?” she asked, Penni looking a little bewildered as she thought about who could possibly have been there.  

 

“First, you’re not frumpy and I give up, who?”

 

“Leonard.” She said, watching Penni’s face contort into disgust.

 

“Berkowski?!”

 

“The one and only… He’s the reason I didn’t get your text until later, just as arrogant as ever!  Came over to tell me he applied for the Wellman Grant…” She said, Penni’s face changing to one of hilarity.

 

“Ahahaha!  Did you tell him?  Please tell me you told him, oh I wish I had been there if you told him…”

 

“I told him.”

 

“AHHHH! I WISH I HAD BEEN THERE!!  We could have taken a picture and posted it right next to the award letter!”

 

“I know, I kind of wish I had thought of that…”

 

“You were busy.”

 

“No I wasn’t, my date was with someone else, remember?”

 

“I was trying not to… Now I want to maim him again.” Penni said, stabbing her own ice cream repeatedly as she thought about it, concerning Myrna a little.

 

“The ice cream didn’t do anything to you…” She warned, Penni looking up from the now defaced pint in front of her, pausing for a moment before commenting again.

 

“Yeah, but it’s fun pretending it’s his face.” Myrna laughed, grabbing her ice cream again and poking at its now melty shape again.  It _was_ oddly cathartic and she supposed if she wasn’t actually doing it to a person it wasn’t unreasonable.  Penni looked at her with raised eyebrows again, as if to say, _wasn’t I right?_  Myrna laughing again and taking a bite of ice cream.  They both looked up as they heard Mr. Darcy rebuffing the likes of Elizabeth Bennett.

 

_“She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men…”_

 

Penni and Myrna looked at one another, reminded suddenly that this was a familiar situation and in tandem both tossed a pillow or a handful of chips at the tv screen.

 

“BOOOOO!”

 

“Mr. Darcy, you giant dingleberry!” they hollered at Colin Firth, their dogs jumping up to take care of the snacks their humans had so carelessly tossed on the floor.

 

“Mr. Darcy?! Mr. WAYNE-- Now THERE’S the dingleberry!” Penni corrected, throwing an extra Cheeto across the room for good measure.  The two women laughed until their sides ached and Myrna realized she was finally feeling better.  The date might have been a bust, but the evening didn’t have to be and she was more comfortable at home, yelling at the tv with her friend than a party hosted by people who made six billion times what she did in a year anyway.  Despite this, she still felt a great disappointment in the back of her mind as she thought about a certain dark haired, five o’clock shadowed man who just couldn’t quite get out of her head yet.

 

* * *

 

 

By the next morning, Myrna had decided to forget all about her less than glamourous evening, focusing on what she always did when everything else didn’t make sense.

 

Her work.  

 

Sometimes she hated that it seemed like that was one of the only things in her life that never threw her for a loop but even on the tough days, dealing with parents and sometimes defeated kids, at least she knew what she was doing.  She hung her gown on a hanger and shoved it to the back of the closet behind all her other clothes, if she didn’t see it for awhile, maybe it wouldn’t be such a reminder for the day.  She got ready for work like she would any other day, they were so close to a weekend she could almost taste it and if she could muddle through a couple more days, then she’d have the whole weekend to sleep and catch up on whatever she had managed to neglect during the week.  She and Penni had set off for work and a full day of teaching and administrating and stand-in parenting kept her from thinking about anything depressing.  She hadn’t even realized until near the end of the day when she went to look at her phone that she hadn’t charged it at all last night and it was currently pretending to be a very expensive brick.  Shoving the charger into the phone’s port, she went back to business, the kids gone for the day, the building quiet for the first time since 8am this morning.  She was getting ready to sit down to finish the paperwork she had left behind yesterday, barely lifting her pen when she heard what sounded like carts with wheels running against the concrete floor of the building outside her office.  Letting out a sigh and standing back up, she came to the door of her office, not hearing her newly powered on phone buzz lightly behind her; and saw a delivery man now standing in the middle of the hallway, clipboard in hand, looking around for signs of life.  He heard her door creak open and tipped the clipboard toward her.

 

“I’m looking for a Myrna Swift?” He said, Myrna opening the door further and stepping out into the hallway.  She saw Penni and a few other of her staff who hadn’t gone home for the day pop their heads out of their classrooms as the unexpected voice traveled up the hallway.  Penni came out to join Myrna, trying to discern what might be happening.

 

“I’m Myrna.” She said, taking the clipboard that was offered to her, but still had no idea what was happening, “What’s this?” She asked nodding toward the large cart full of something that was shrink wrapped.

 

“Uh,” the delivery man started, as though she should know, “It’s 60 iPads.” He said simply, no explanation as to where they came from and why they were here.  She looked at the order in front of her, which was indeed for 60 brand new iPads, but there was no indication of anything helpful on it.

 

“I-I-I’m sorry, I think there’s been some mistake, I didn’t order these…” She said, they had received the Wellman Grant, but even though $70,000 might seem like a lot, it was already spoken for, supplies and new classroom furniture to replace the second hand desks and chairs they had now.  At no point had there even been talk of purchasing iPads, because there was no way to pay for them.  The delivery man practically rolled his eyes at her protestations, obviously very thrilled to be employed.

 

“Well you must have, because here they are.” He said, holding out a pen for her to take and sign the paperwork she had in her hand.

 

“Oh… I must have, must I?” She responded, “I can tell you exactly what I last ordered, and unless iPads come in washable marker and construction paper boxes, I did NOT order _these_.” She said, the delivery man not caring, much less adding anything to the conversation.

 

“Is your information correct?” he asked, bored and waiting for an answer.  Myrna looked at the receipt once more, nodding as everything was addressed to the academy.

 

“Then I just need you to sign.”  He said, Myrna shaking her head.

 

“The address might be right, but I did not order these-- and I’m not comfortable signing for something I didn’t order and I can’t even confirmed are paid for, because I’m not a thief-- IS SOMEONE ON THE ROOF?” She said as she realized there was what sounded like a herd of cattle thumping overhead, looking up waiting for something to come straight through the ceiling but was brought back to reality when Penni came up behind her, touching her arm.

 

“Myr.” She said, Myrna looking back at her friend who nodded her head toward the entryway of the school.  Myrna felt her heart stop as she saw the silhouette of Bruce Wayne standing in the doorway.  She froze, not really knowing what to do, the night before coming flooding back.  There was too much happening at this moment as she realized all of this was the result of something Bruce Wayne had directed.  All the experience she had dealing with uncomfortable situations flew right out the window as she felt the internal battle of being angry he was here but also excited he was here and the thought perhaps last night had just been a strange dream.

 

“Penni… I’m sorry, could you…” She didn’t have to finish what she was saying as Penni dutifully took the clipboard from her, Myrna taking a breath, letting herself turn away from the entryway of the school and walk up the hall to a doorway that led out to the small courtyard beside the school.  When she had been looking for properties to house her school, she had immediately fallen in love with this little area.  It hadn’t been much when they had first moved in, but she and Penni had spent hours filling it with beautiful flowers and plants for all seasons, and a small pond that hadn’t frozen over just yet, but she knew hanging near the bottom by the pond’s heater were several koi the students had named and renamed over the the last two years.  It was peaceful out here, small lessons could be taught and kids who needed a breather like she needed now, could come out to calm down.  The peace was interrupted as a group of workers in hard hats tromped by towards a section of roof where Myrna knew the roof was damaged from a storm midsummer this year.  It needed to be repaired, but of course it was one of those repairs that cost thousands because it couldn’t just be patched.  How they knew about it without having spoken to her was curious, but then again, Bruce Wayne was involved so why was she surprised?

 

“The city inspector said you had to have the roof fixed before it started to snow…” She heard his voice behind her and she felt herself tense, not wanting to turn around, “The storm damaged the roof and some of the underlying structure-- he mentioned you had gotten the structure fixed but it wiped out your maintenance budget for the year so the roof couldn’t be finished.  It’s why you’ve been applying for any grant or potential loan you can.” He added, Myrna shaking her head as she looked up at the clear blue sky just beyond her reach.

 

“Didn’t realize the city inspector was so chatty.” She finally said, turning to look at him, fully intending on being as stoic as possible, however, she was caught off guard by how he was looking at her.  She didn’t know what she had been expecting, since she hadn’t expected to see him at all, but she supposed she _wasn’t_ expecting him to be looking at her with a kind of yearning on his face.  When they had been together, before the museum, in his car, talking, she had known he hadn’t been entirely open with her.  It hadn’t bothered her because they didn’t know each other that well and it seemed as someone as deep in the public eye as he was, he had more to protect than she did, personally.  It made sense that he wasn’t going to tell her his deepest darkest secrets because for all he knew she’d be on the ten o’clock news spilling them the first chance she got.  However, as they had driven through Gotham and she shared more about her family, her wonderfully average, middle class and beloved family, he opened up a little more, telling her about his own parents, who she knew had been killed a few years before she was born and what he had promised himself he would accomplish in their memory.  He had mentioned his good works with Wayne Enterprises, but as someone who worked with kids, she could tell he wasn’t being entirely truthful but didn’t question him about it.  It was that conversation that had given her a shred of hope that maybe the evening would lead to them getting to know each other better, that there was a genuine interest from him.  The few minutes they had spent in the museum she had seen him watching her in the reflection of the glass of the exhibits, as though she were the only one that mattered that night; once she had seen him with the dark haired woman, she realized she had read far too deeply into something that wasn’t there.

 

Now she didn’t know what to think.

 

“He realizes you’re reaching a deadline you can’t meet-- He also realizes  I could help you meet it.” He said, Myrna shaking her head and letting out a snort.

 

“I don’t remember him ever caring that much.”

 

“Maybe not.  But if he cares doesn’t really matter.”

 

“It might when he comes back to reinspect and there’s still damage to the roof.”

 

“When he comes back there won’t be damage to the roof.” He said firmly walking toward her, Myrna’s eyes narrowing as she backed away from him.

 

“I don’t believe I asked for help.” She said, her belly twisting with all sorts of emotions, ranging from relief, to anger, to excitement to confusion and frankly she didn’t like it.

 

“In this case, you didn’t have to.” Bruce said trying to walk closer to her once more, but stopping as she backed up again, trying to keep some distance between them.  He recognized she had every right to be upset with him, but he didn’t want her to be.  He wasn’t exactly sure he was winning her over though.

 

“And your investment in this would do what for you, exactly?” She asked, likely more suspiciously then she intended, but he had led her on so there’s that and she wasn't going to be bought with shiny beads and flattery if that's what he was thinking.

 

“My investment would be a repaired roof that will keep a much needed school from closing and keep someone I’ve started to care for, from fearing she failed like she believes she failed two years ago.” He said, his words causing Myrna to cross her arms protectively in front of her, looking around the courtyard to focus on anything but him as her face paled.

 

“You have no idea what I fear. You have no idea who I am at all, you’ve known me for all of five minutes.  I don’t need your pity charity, I’ll get what this school needs, like I always have, even if it means selling cookies door to door or my own damn kidneys.” She said, anger winning out over all the other emotions currently as he spoke of caring for someone he couldn’t be bother to spend more than a few hours in total; she hadn’t heard a peep from him since she had left him at the museum and didn’t want to continue this song and dance with him much longer.  She took a deep breath, calming herself before she started to walk passed him to go back into the school, Bruce grabbing her arm gently, but firmly as she did and stopping her from walking away.

 

“It might be charity, but it’s definitely not pity, Myrna.  And you’re right, I don’t know you as well as I should, but if you’d give me the chance...” He said as she looked up at him, her hazel eyes snapping with anger he knew he had put there.

 

“You’re kidding, right?” she said, pulling her arm away from him and stepping back, an incredulous look on her face, “You could have had an entire evening to ‘get to know me’, Mr. Wayne, or did I hallucinate going to a gala I had no business being at because you _asked_ me to go, in the _hopes_ of getting to know _you_?” she asked, Bruce shaking his head no.

 

“That was my intent…”

 

“Did I also hallucinate seeing you getting particularly close to a woman who also happened to be at the gala?”

 

“I was talking with her but it’s not what you think.  It was purely business related.” He wasn't exactly lying, perhaps it hadn't been a Wayne Enterprises business issue but it had been a Batman business issue. He had gotten the drive back, cracked it, the evening full of strange dreams as he waited to find the data he needed to find the Kryptonite to stop Superman.  But he hadn't forgotten her, the look on her face when she had left the gala-- he hadn't forgotten what he had been feeling when they talked to each other as though they had known one another forever on their way there. It was why he was here, why he was trying to get her to see him again.

 

“You’ll have to forgive me, I haven’t been on a date in a while, but I don’t remember it ever going well when the man finds the first woman he can that’s not who he came with, who has legs for days, dark mysterious eyes, and practically has his face buried in her hair while he’s whispering in her ear…  Can’t imagine why we’d have a difficult time getting to know one another.”

 

“That’s not what was happening…” He said, Myrna looking at him with serious disbelief on her face.

 

“ _Really_ , Bruce?   _I_ would have left me at the snack table for her…” She said bringing her hands to her face in response to how confused she was.  “I’m not judging you being interested in someone else, Bruce, I try my best not to be a jealous woman, do whatever makes you happy, just please… Do me a favor and don’t lead me on.” She said, realizing this was becoming far more difficult than it should be.  She should be furious with him, she should be walking away, she should be yelling, _anything_ , but she couldn’t bring herself to do it, even though everything in her screamed she should be.  When he moved toward her again, she didn’t know what to do, he hadn’t said anything yet, if he was going to say anything wasn’t clear.  He closed the gap between them, reaching out his hand until it enclosed hers.

 

“ I’m sorry that things went the way they did last night.  Despite what you might think, I would-- _not_ \-- lead you on, Myrna, I promise you.” He said quietly, Myrna looking him in the eye, they were dark but sincere.  There was something about him, something she couldn’t quite see yet, something he wasn’t showing her, but it wasn’t that he was a liar.  She looked down at their hands, seeing hers dwarfed in his; his strong fingers wrapped around her smaller ones.  

 

“I’m not someone who can walk into something and not know where I stand-- work, friendships, family-- all of it.  Here, makes sense, Penni-- makes sense, my family makes sense… I look at you and all I see are question marks.  You’re chaos to me, Bruce Wayne.” She said looking up at him, Bruce giving her a half smile.

 

“I thought women found that exciting…” he said teasingly, Myrna shaking her head.

 

“Well, maybe the _insane_ women YOU know do...” She said, feeling his hand that was already holding hers tighten, the other taking hold of her other free hand.  His eyes caught hers again and the same sincerity she had seen before, at the library party, in the car to the gala.  This is why she was confused and it drove her crazy-- She had always felt like a good judge of character, but he’d had her second guessing herself since she'd met him. One moment she felt like he was showing her who he was, the next he was gone, some facade of Bruce Wayne in his place.

 

“It's decided then, no more chaos.  Just you and I, actually getting to know each other.  That’s where we stand with each other.” He said, Myrna tilting her head, eyebrow raised questioningly, she was going to have a hard time not being suspicious.  He laughed, because he could see despite her suspicion she _was_ being won over.  

 

“What’s that look for?” He asked her, Myrna’s lips turning up into a mischievous smile.

 

“Because I’m trying very hard not to like you... “

 

“Oh you are, are you?”

 

“Yes, I am.”

 

“Why’s that?  I’m very likeable.” He said pulling her closer to him, happy to see she wasn’t fighting him this time.

 

“I know, that’s the problem.  You’re so likeable I have to remember to keep my wits when I’m around you.” She said, looking at him, still smiling but her eyes were serious.  He let go of one her hands and lifted his to her face, his thumb running gently across the crest of her cheek.  Myrna finding, much to her dismay, that she enjoyed his touch and her wits were packing their bags and taking a holiday.

 

“You think you’re the only one who has to worry about keeping their wits about them?  I’ve spent the last three days telling myself that you’re better off not knowing me at all-- but I keep coming back to the fact _I_ wouldn’t be better off not knowing _you_...” He responded, Myrna looking a little surprised at his confession, there was the honesty she had seen from him before.

 

“How’d you come to that conclusion?  I haven’t given you that much to go on, have I?”

 

“Call it intuition.” He said, lifting the hand he was still holding and kissing the back of it.  Myrna rolled her eyes, but still smiling and a hint of pink flaring across her cheeks.

 

“Oh, stop it.  Now you’re just laying it on thick”

 

“Is it working?” He said, smiling at her from over the ridge of her knuckles, making her look away and laugh.

 

“Possibly.” She responded with a faux irritation, it made Bruce’s heart pound harder to hear it.  Perhaps he had lived too long with keeping people at a distance, never making time for someone; excusing his wayfaring behavior with the fairer sex because of his life as the Batman.  It made sense until it didn’t-- to keep himself alone, and when he was with her, it didn’t make sense, however short of time he had known her, there was something more there with her, that hadn’t been there with the others.  Maybe it was because she wanted more from him than just an evening and a news clipping proving she’d spent the night with Bruce Wayne.  

 

“Have dinner with me… Tonight.” He said finally, her face showing a flash of worry once more.  He still had a little more convincing to do.  

 

“I don’t know… I have a lot to get done, the kids have new iPads and now apparently we have work being done on the roof…” She said dryly, trying to keep a smile from breaking across her face, but was quickly interrupted.

 

“We’re getting to know each other, right?  Have dinner with me, just us, no galas, no misunderstandings about other women, no Leonard Berkowskis…” Myrna inhaled an annoyed breath.

 

“Oh you just HAD to bring that sniveling hypocrite up…”

 

“But the point is he won’t be there.”

 

“Are you sure?  I’m surprised he hasn’t been camping out on your front lawn since last night.” She said, Bruce laughing, surprised at how easy it was given he was stoic about most everything.  Moody as Alfred might say.

 

“I’m sure-- and even if he was, he wouldn’t be for long… Just us.” He said, looking at her, willing her to say yes.  Myrna let her head fall back as she thought about it, everything in her better judgment saying she should let everything cool off, give them a moment to think things through before jumping right back into it, but she knew once she opened her mouth, she wouldn’t be saying that.  

 

“No more question marks?”

 

“No more question marks-- Just us… Well, and Alfred-- if you want edible food…” He said, Myrna recognizing the name from the night before.  Alfred had worked for Bruce’s family since he was a child, taking on a father figure for him after his parents had been killed.  She shook her head and smiled.

 

“Well far be it from me to demand food poisoning…” She finally said.  

 

“Is that a yes?” He asked, Myrna nodded.

 

“Yes, that's a yes.” She answered, relief crossing over him as she did, he had a feeling he knew why it mattered to him so much.  He also knew that any day now he might not be here to enjoy the smiles that had been so hard won from her; and perhaps it was a combination of the two that made it matter.

 

“Good-- I'll send a car for you, around 7?” He said, Myrna nodding as the two walked back toward the school.  She heard the buzz of electrical tools start up as they did, Bruce’s crew getting to work on the roof.  Myrna looked up as several of them passed overhead with materials in hand. She looked back at Bruce, genuine thanks on her face.

 

“Thank you for not letting me sell my kidneys…” she said, only partially joking. She hadn't exactly been opposed to selling body parts on the black market, desperate to make this school work. Bruce smiled, looking up at the crew working above them before meeting her gaze.

 

“You're welcome… I am invested in you keeping all your internal organs.” He said, Myrna rolling her eyes but allowed herself the pleasure of someone caring what happened to her, who she wasn't either related to or practically related to because they had been friends for so long.  Speaking of which, as they walked back to the school, they could see a concerned Penni directing construction men toward the roof, while pretending she wasn't watching them through the windows outside.

 

“She looks… Upset.” Bruce said, knowing the dark haired woman was a force in her own right and very protective of her friend.  Myrna nodded, shrugging her shoulders.

 

“She's waiting to find out if she should be waiting for you in an empty parking lot… You know… Because of the whole other wom--” Myrna started but was quickly interrupted by a slightly irritated Bruce Wayne.

 

“I'm gathering that.”

 

“Don't worry, I’ll protect you from the clearly dangerous Puerto Rican woman.” Myrna said as she opened the door to get into the school, she felt Bruce's hand on her lower back as he followed her in and found she liked the feeling of his strong hands on her.  Reminding herself she was at work, Myrna tried to shake the thought out of her head, wasn’t necessarily working though.  

 

“Thank you-- Not entirely sure I would win in a fight against her.” She heard him say just behind her and she agreed.  Penni could be frighteningly strong when she was mad about something.

 

“You wouldn’t.” She said as they made it into the hallway, Penni making her way to them slowly, looking at her friend for some indication on if she should be smiling or maiming.  When she saw the look on Myrna’s face wasn’t one of upset, she was relieved.

 

“Everything ok, Myr?” She asked, her friend nodding.

 

“We’re ok, Penni.” She responded, Bruce nodding, happy to be behind Myrna, considering the way Penni was watching him was similar to the way he’d seen tigers look at their next meals.  Hungry and ready for the kill.   Obviously she and Myrna had talked about last night and she was of the impression as Myrna had been, that her friend had been slighted, badly and the penalty for that might actually be death.

 

“Yes… We’ve talked things out.” He said, Penni still not convinced he wasn't bad news for Myrna.

 

“You have, have you?” Penni asked, still suspicious.  She had felt bad for setting her friend up to go to a gala she wouldn’t have gone to on her own, only to be stood up by a man who seemed to be very used to people doing what wanted for him.  She had liked him and he had failed the test, leaving him not only with a failing grade and a lot of kissing up to do to make it work if he still wanted anything to do with Myrna.

 

“Yes, we have--” Myrna said as the three of them made their way down the hall, the sound of construction on the roof echoing after them.  “I’m selling my body to repair the roof.” She said with a sly smile, Penni looking between Myrna and Bruce with an increasingly horrified look.  Bruce shook his head, Myrna was an audacious woman, with a sarcasm and wit that matched his own.  He wasn’t opposed to it, in fact it only made him like her more.

 

“Well, you were already planning on selling parts of it off anyway, figured you’d be open to negotiation.” He replied, Penni stopping as Myrna and Bruce kept going.

 

“Oh, haha, very funny…” She said, but when no one responded, she hurried to catch up, still not sure what was happening.  “Wait, seriously, should I be cutting someone right now?”

 

* * *

 

  


After Bruce had left the school, Penni had practically pounced on Myrna to get her to spill whatever she hadn’t told her, barricading her in her office.

 

“We ate nearly four pints of ice cream, a bag of Cheetos and made it all the way through Pride and Prejudice, that’s how bad things went with him and now you’re giving him ANOTHER opportunity to treat you like crap?!” She demanded, Myrna sighing as she shoved paperwork and her computer into her bag.

 

“Penni, you’re the one who encouraged me to be more open minded-- _You_ rearranged my schedule for me to go with him last night.”

 

“Yes, BEFORE he acted like a prepubescent man-child and let you leave without so much as a word!” She protested, not wanting to be up late again with a friend who had been slighted twice in as many days.  Bruce Wayne might be able to pull that off with other women, but not with _her_ best friend, who she knew was too good for him.  Myrna stopped what she was doing and set her things down on her desk, walking over to her friend and grabbing Penni’s shoulders.

 

“You’re right, he did… And he might still end up being exactly what I thought he was.”

 

“Then why are you seeing him again?  Why bother?  Let him go back to gold-diggers drooling over his money and stroking his ego to get at it and you find someone else… Someone better and… Poor.” She said, honestly pleading with her friend to rethink things.  Myrna sighed, wishing she could put into words what she was feeling and why she was doing this, she was glad to have someone like Penni in her corner.

 

“Because I saw something, Penni… I can’t explain it without me sounding like a Disney movie and then you really won’t believe me… I just, I looked in his eyes when were talking and I didn’t see a liar.” She said simply, walking back to her desk to her bag and coat.  Penni watched her, considering what her friend was saying.

 

“If you’re sure… I know you’re a big girl, I just-- I know how upset you were last night and that was before you were invested, if you give him another chance and he… I just don’t want to see you hurt-- and I don’t want you to be beholden to him because of what he’s doing for the school.  Even Bruce Wayne can tell how devoted to your work you are and I don’t want him to use that on you.” She said, knowing that she and Bruce had been joking about it earlier, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t change his mind later.  Expecting something from Myrna that he thought he was owed.  Myrna pulled her coat on and slung her bag over her shoulders, grabbing her phone off the desk as the two of them walked out of her office.

 

“I know, Penni.” She said simply, knowing her friend was right to be concerned for her.  She could be wrong and letting herself fall for it again, no doubt it could be yet another evening of regret-- but she felt like she’d regret it more if she let him go without trying.

 

“Well,” Penni grumbled as they locked the doors to the school and headed for the car, “you’re a better woman than me… I would have kicked his ass to the curb and called it a day.” She said, Myrna laughing as they both slid into the car.

 

“No way, _you’re_ the smart one… Besides, “ she said with a sarcastic smile as they locked up the building and turned to the parking lot, “We did need a new roof.” The two of them walked to Myrna's van, Myrna's now charged phone singing out the song of its people that she had a message waiting for her.  As she unlocked the car for Penni to get in, she pulled her phone out of her bag, smiling as she realized there were two messages waiting for her, both from Bruce, one she only just realized she had missed from earlier, one she had just been notified of.

 

 

**4:00pm**

_**BW:** I have something to say in person, could you come out of your office?_

**4:45pm**

**_BW:_ ** _Is it 7 yet?_

Penni saw her friend’s face go stupid as she read her messages, rolling her eyes from her seat, waiting for her chauffeur to get in with her.

 

“Oh, get a roooom.” She said, still annoyed with Wayne for being obnoxious, but silently thrilled her friend was smiling for a change and about something that wasn’t work.  Myrna stuck her tongue out at Penni as she slid into the driver’s seat.

 

“I just might.” She said simply, making Penni full on belly laugh as they set off toward home, Myrna having yet another evening to prepare for.  If she wasn’t careful, people might actually start thinking she was a social person.


	5. 7pm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myrna arrives at the glasshouse for dinner and Bruce is waiting-- impatiently.

The evening came quickly and right on time there was a ring from the doorbell, a driver waiting at the door for her.  Penni waved goodbye, fingers crossed that Bruce Wayne had gotten his crap together and wasn’t going to end up doing something stupid again; like invite a hooker over for them all to have dinner with.  She shook her head at the thought as she saw the lights of the car pull away from the house, her friend safely tucked in the backseat.  The drive didn’t take that long, despite them ending up on the outskirts of Gotham, the driver apparently familiar with enough shortcuts to get them there before too long.  With it being winter, the area was brown, sleeping until warmer weather arrived, which certainly didn’t help it seem ominous with the burnt out husk of what used to be Wayne Manor standing on the hillside. Standing alone, a skeleton of what it once was.  Despite not being a native of Gotham, she had grown up knowing about the fire that had decimated the manor years ago. She wondered why Bruce had never rebuilt it, what was left of it was still quite beautiful and from a historical perspective, it was significant to Gotham’s history.  Since he had lived in it with his parents until their murders, she suspected it might have something to do with that, but didn’t have time to think on it much longer as the car followed a well worn path into the woods just beside the manor.  It lead to a large lake and a simple and very modern glass house sitting  just on the edge of it.  It wasn’t ostentatious, which seemed more Bruce’s style.

 

The car stopped just outside the house, the door opening and Bruce standing in the doorway, waiting for her.  He had lost his suit coat from earlier, leaving him in a waistcoat and button up, the collar unbuttoned just enough to be dangerous, his sleeves rolled up over his forearms.  It was a good look for him and it was enough to make Myrna have to think harder about which foot went in front of the other.  He had looked handsome in a tuxedo the night before, now he looked more like himself, comfortable at home and at the end of the day and it made her more weak in the knees than a black tie ever could.

 

“Snap out of it, Swift.  You’re a grown woman, not a teenage girl.” She muttered to herself as she flattened the skirt of her dress out around legs as she exited the car, grabbing her purse from the seat before she thanked the driver and headed for the door.  It occurred to her as she walked toward the house that she didn’t have a way home again, this time she didn’t think an Uber would be within easy distance, even if the night went well…  The timing of these thoughts getting worse as she walked up the stairs to the door where Bruce was waiting for her.

 

“You’re here.” He said, smiling at her from where he stood.

 

“I’m here.” She answered, having a hard time not looking away shyly from the way he was regarding her.  He seemed to be well-versed in the ‘art of making love with his eyes’, as Penni would say and she wasn’t about to be taken in by that.  She was going to be smart about this, or at least that was the mantra running through her head as she stood in front of him.  Thankfully, the moment was broken as a gravelly, English accent broke through and caught their attention.

 

“Master Wayne, are you planning on inviting the young woman in or shall I?” it said, Myrna turning her head to see an older man with graying hair, thick tortoise shell glasses and a heavily stubbled chin come around the corner of the fireplace in what she assumed was the living area, the house was almost entirely open concept, spartanly furnished as seemed appropriate for a bachelor.  She saw Bruce consider a smart response but think better of it, putting his hand out to invite her completely into the house.

 

“Would you come in?” he offered, Myrna letting out a small exhalation of air to keep from laughing.

 

“I see who runs things around here.” She said to him, Bruce nodding, not even disagreeing.

 

“It’s a forgone conclusion.” He responded, shutting the door behind them and taking Myrna’s coat and purse to hang them by the door.  She walked toward the grizzled old man he’d come to know as a friend, mentor and father after all these years.  She offered her hand to him to shake, smiling at him so brightly that even Alfred couldn’t help but smile back, in his own curmudgeonly way, taking her hand in his.

 

“You must be Alfred-- Bruce has told me a little about you.” She said looking back at Bruce, who shrugged it off.

 

“I warned her about you, is what she means.” He said, watching her with Alfred.  The older man rarely commented on Bruce’s dalliances, likely because none of them stuck around long enough for him to get to know, but also because between the two of them, Alfred had been the most vocal about him not settling down.  Much like a father would, Alfred had dutifully stood by Bruce through his years as Batman, but hadn’t let go of the hope he would find a woman worthy of him and perhaps start a family to continue the Wayne family name.  Alfred knew as well as Bruce did, none of the women he brought home were worth sharing that name with, and purposefully so.  It had left Alfred nothing but snarky comments under his breath to remind Bruce what he thought.  Now the older man stood talking to Myrna, his countenance changing microscopically, but enough even Bruce could tell, that a small spark of hope had lit again.

 

“And you must be Miss Swift-- Bruce has spoken very highly of you the last few days, I think he might have been rather excited that you accepted his invitation to dinner… Though it would have been understandable had you not.” He said, shooting a somewhat withering look at Bruce from over Myrna’s head.  She realized he must have heard how things had gone at the gala, it was nice to feel a bit vindicated that she hadn’t necessarily been wrong to feel like she had.

 

“Alfred…” She heard Bruce say from behind her, the graying man not heeding the warning it seemed.  She leaned forward a bit toward the older man and gave him a conspiratorial smile.

 

“You and I should probably be best friends, Alfred.” She said, getting him to give her a wry smile in return.  As the two of them made friends, Bruce continued to watch, even though he knew most of their conversation was at his expense.  He liked that she was talking to Alfred as a friend, if he had met any of the previous women, quite frequently they would see him as an employee and didn’t treat him with the respect he was due.  It seemed Myrna was decent enough to do that regardless and had been listening when he had told her about the man who had raised him.  He found himself not only admiring her for her ability to be a kind human being, which hadn’t been much of a stretch, considering he had seen her in her element as a teacher, but admiring her figure.  She wore a knee length gray wrap dress with a muted floral print, black leggings to stave off the chill of November and black riding boots.  Her thick red hair was twisted up into a soft bun at the back of her head, some falling in a soft wave across her forehead.  He had enjoyed seeing her last night at the gala, the dress she had worn had given him ideas, but now that she was here and dressed nicely, but comfortably, he realized he still had ideas.  It was just her, being herself that was attractive to him.  The moment was interrupted by the ding of a timer on a kitchen appliance, reminding Alfred he had something needing his attention.  He went to excuse himself, Myrna immediately asking if there was anything she could do to help him.

 

“I have it all under control, Miss Swift, but thank you.” He responded, heading for the kitchen.

 

“Myrna, please... “ She said, uncomfortable with the idea of being “miss’d” by a man who could easily be her grandfather.

 

“Alright then, Miss Myrna…” He said, walking around the corner, Myrna shaking her head and turning back to Bruce, realizing he was already watching her.

 

“Is he always like that?” She said, Bruce shrugging and cutting across the space within a few steps.

 

“Actually, he’s usually worse-- I think you’ve gotten on his good side.” He said with a half smile  as he closed the gap between them, his hands coming to rest on her waist, pulling her closer to him.  She looked at him with a scandalized face, though she wasn’t protesting that loudly.

 

“Oh, we’re there are we?” She asked him softly as his grip tightened on her.  She wasn’t exactly complaining, but there was also another person in the house who likely didn’t need nor want to walk in on the two of them canoodling in any fashion.

 

“I think we are.” He said just as softly, his voice deep as he looked her in the eye.  She might be a bit shy at the thought of them touching, but he’d been wanting to kiss her since she told him off by the pond at her school.  He reached up and brushed her hair out of her face, looking at her with fairly clear intent on his own; he could feel her tense against him but she didn’t pull away or tell him off for impropriety.  He lowered his face toward hers, fully intending on determining just how soft those lips were and if they were anything like he’d been imagining, Myrna’s eyes closing as he did, her hands sliding up his arms, preparing for a moment that-- was sadly interrupted by Alfred’s voice once more.

 

“Master Wayne, Miss Myrna, your dinner is ready.” He said, Bruce’s mouth barely an inch from Myrna’s.  Her eyes flew open, her hand coming to rest over her mouth as she contained a laugh at Bruce’s expense, clearly put out.

 

“If there is one thing Alfred Pennyworth is excellent at, it’s timing.” He muttered under his breath, Myrna nearly choking on her own laughter, a bit excited at the thought he was annoyed to have missed out on kissing her.  

 

“I suppose that means you’ll just have to be patient…” She said softly, patting his chest understandingly, Bruce shaking his head in disagreement.

 

“There have been many times I’ve had to be patient… This is not one of those times.” He said, dark eyes roving over her for a moment.  Myrna laughed again, though internally she was screaming at how he was looking at her; lifting up on her toes to reach him and pressing a soft and particularly chaste kiss against his mouth before she pulled away and walked toward the kitchen and dining area of the house.

 

“Won’t you be surprised then.” She said as she rounded the corner of the fireplace, following where she had last seen Alfred disappear to.  Bruce had to wait a second to let his blood slow down, despite her kiss being gentle and far from what he’d had in mind, it still burnt him like a brand, it had been awhile since someone could illicit a response from him with as innocuous a move as that.  He took a breath before he followed her toward the dining area, where she was helping Alfred set the table.  

 

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, Alfred-- but did you serve?” she asked, Alfred stopping what he was doing for a second to regard her from across the table.

 

“I don’t suppose you mean serve dinner?” he asked, Myrna smiling and shaking her head no.

 

“No, I mean, British SAS.” She clarified, Alfred nodding in response.

 

“I did-- might I ask how you know that?” He inquired as he finished setting a bowl of green beans and almonds on the table.

 

“Bruce mentioned your surname was Pennyworth-- it made me realize my grandfather knew a Pennyworth when he served.” She said, Bruce looking between the two of them, quite possibly about to be surprised there was a connection.

 

“Your grandfather was SAS?”

 

“He was, served in France…”

 

“I also served in France-- though I don’t recall working with anyone by the name of Swift.” Alfred said, brow creasing as he thought back to those days.  He found it remarkable though, that she might have family with any kind of connection to him.  Myrna waved the name off with her free hand as she set down glasses for them to drink from.

 

“Oh, you wouldn’t, Swift is my father’s family name-- he was my maternal grandfather, my mother’s maiden name was Denby.” She said, recognition crossing Alfred’s face as he heard the name.

 

“Ah, yes!  Erwin Denby, we worked in the same unit, I remember him well.” Alfred said.

 

“He said you and the others liked to poke fun at him.” She said, not accusingly but eyebrows raised questioningly.  

 

“Well… He did have the brightest red hair-- The enemy could easily have found our position if he hadn’t had his hat on most of the time.” He said, Myrna laughing as she heard verification of a family story.

 

“It was very bright.” She said, recalling her grandfather’s hair before it had gone completely gray.

 

“Yours is, thankfully, a much darker, lovelier shade than his ever was-- though now that I look at you, I can certainly see the Denby in you.” He said, Myrna smiling proudly.

 

“Yes, he thought I looked like him from the beginning-- said I had his nose.  He was very disappointed my mother refused to name me Erwina.” Alfred looked at her with a horrified face, which Myrna matched, “Yes, I was just as grateful she chose not to name me Erwina as he was disappointed.” She added, Alfred letting out a small grumble which was as close to a laugh as he would ever get.  Which was just as surprising to Bruce as though the older man, who rarely had a sense of humor with him, had let out a full belly laugh.

 

“Strange how small the world can seem,” Alfred mused as he set the final dishes on the table, “is Erwin in Gotham then?”

 

“Metropolis-- He passed away my senior year of college from lung cancer.” She said, Alfred giving the appropriate condolences as he stood with his hands on the back of one of the dining room chairs, pulling it out for Myrna.

 

“Ah, I’m very sorry to hear that.  I expect he would be very proud of the woman his granddaughter has become though.” He said kindly, Myrna smiling brightly at him for such a compliment.

 

“Thank you, Alfred.” She said, almost surprised when he gestured toward the chair for her to have a seat.  

 

“Please, have a seat, Miss Myrna.” He told her, Myrna walking to her seat like she was going to the principal’s office.

 

“You’ll have to be gentle with her, Alfred,” Bruce said dryly, “she’s used to opening her own doors and pulling out her own chairs.” He said as he moved toward the table and his own seat, Myrna shaking her head and narrowing her eyes at him from across the table.

 

“Ha-ha-ha… Thank you again, Alfred… Are you sure you won’t join us?  Seems only fair given you prepared everything.” She said, Bruce looking at Alfred with a raised brow.  He knew Myrna was being kind and he appreciated that, but so help him, if Alfred stayed for dinner…  He was relieved when Alfred dutifully shook his head no.

 

“Oh no, Miss Myrna-- I wouldn’t dream of intruding, this evening is for the two of you, I have other things to attend to…” He said, meaning likely he would be working on something in the lower levels of the house, preparing for Bruce’s inevitable next venture out as the Batman, now that he knew about the White Portuguese and it’s Kryptonite cargo.  

 

“Though might I say...  You’re the first of Master Wayne’s fairer friends to speak to me as though I were an equal in this house.” He added, not wrong; quite often if he were present, the women Bruce had joining him here never seemed to be of the impression that Alfred was an integral part of his life, treating him as one of the staff.  It was an unfortunate side effect of the type woman he had grown accustomed to seeing, he realized now how at ease everyone was tonight and that it felt far more comfortable than it had ever been before. Myrna looked at the older gentleman, her face shocked.

 

“You’re kidding.”

 

“No, I am not.” He answered, the auburn haired woman shaking her head in disgust, what kind of women Bruce consorted with might not be her business before now, but it did make her wonder what he had been thinking.  Well… No, it didn’t, she knew.

 

“I’d like to think my tastes have gotten more refined as of late.” Bruce said, mouth lifting into a half smile as he looked at Myrna from where I stood.  He could see her eyes flash from Alfred to him, slightly embarrassed; it seemed she had a hard time with compliments.  Well challenge accepted on that then.

 

“Well on behalf of womankind everywhere, I apologize-- It doesn’t take that much to be decent to a person.  Especially when they’ve made you a delicious dinner.” She said, Alfred nodding in thanks as he turned to leave the dining area.  As he walked by Bruce, he hesitated for a moment, speaking low and directly to his charge.

 

“Master Wayne-- Dare I say, if you don’t make an honest woman out of this young lady, I just might.” He said, Bruce smiling and chuckling under his breath.  Such high praise from the likes of Alfred Pennyworth, the gruff and often prickly old man, who rarely made it clear he even liked Bruce, the man he had raised since the age of ten.  Clearly Myrna had made an impression, though for Bruce that wasn’t surprising, she’d done the same to him and even though they were still new to one another, he was happy to have found her.  Her being able to bond with Alfred was sign enough to him it was worth whatever time they ended up having together.  He sat down at the table, settling across from her offering her a drink, which she turned down, electing water in its stead.  It started up a conversation as they prepared their plates and started eating.

 

“You don’t drink then?” He asked, Myrna shaking her head.

 

“No, never saw much point in it-- my parents don’t so I never felt like I was missing anything…  Seems to cause them more trouble than it was worth--   I’m too much of a control freak to let myself get to that point.” She said, Bruce understanding her point.

 

“Not everyone loses control though.” He said, Myrna nodding.

 

“Oh, I know-- It’s not an issue for me if people want to do it.  I just choose not to.  I’m probably worried I’ll find yet another character flaw if I’m not careful.” She said jokingly, though Bruce was quick to intercede.

 

“I haven’t seen anything of the sort.” He said, Myrna appreciative but laughing hard at the thought.

 

“Well that’s because you’ve only known me three days-- Give me some time.” She said, Bruce smiling back at her, unperturbed.

 

“Alright then.” He said simply, Myrna looking down at her plate for a second, not opposed to the thought.  This was more of what she had seen before everything went wrong at the gala, what she had been trying to explain to Penni when her friend was worried for her going through this again.  She had to hold out a little hope that it wasn’t all just an act.

 

They talked, more than Bruce had talked to anyone in this kind of setting for a very long time.  He hadn’t thought about the fact he could talk about the mundane aspects of his life, or at least what he thought was mundane and she listened intently.  Whether it was out of actual interest or just because she was polite, he wasn’t entirely sure, but the fact there was someone sitting across from him, listening, eyes fixed on him as he did, was an experience he had been lacking.  She asked questions about Wayne Enterprises, trying to understand more about it as she had the same knowledge level about it as anyone else.  She knew they seemed to be involved in many things world-wide, but had never really looked into it too deeply and he realized he was happy to share.  He was proud of the company his family had built and for it to continue to be successful under his care.  If anyone understood that, it was her, her business might be children and it might not be internationally recognized, but the blood, sweat and tears put into it weren’t any less than his own.  He realized that they had been sitting at the table for a while now, their dinner long since finished as Myrna sat with her elbows on the table, hands folded under her chin as they talked, she genuinely seemed to be enjoying herself.

 

“I feel like I’ve been talking about myself too much.” He said, he wasn’t a man who got self-conscious-- couldn’t be given his position as CEO of a company, but he also wasn’t a man of many words outside of work, it felt strange to be so open, even when he wasn’t telling her everything.  Myrna shook her head in disagreement.

 

“And here I was thinking there was so much more you could tell me.” She said, Bruce giving her one of his famous half smiles as he stood up and offered a hand to her.

 

“Oh, no.  I think if I talk much more, you’re going to have an unfair advantage over me.” He said as Myrna took his hand and followed him out to the living room.

 

“Because that would be so terrible of a thing for me to have.” She said with a laugh, the two of them sitting together on a leather couch just beside the large fireplace that broke up enough of the open concept to define spaces.  Bright flames licking at the thick stone of the fireplace, while warming them from where they sat.

 

“It might be.” He said leaning back on his corner of the seating arrangements, while Myrna tucked her legs under herself and sat back, resting her head on the back of her hand as she looked at him.

 

“You like to keep everything close to the chest, don’t you?” She asked, though she knew why, it just reminded her that this was all still new.  She was starting to care for him, this dark haired man sitting just beside her, watching her back-- maybe it was her own desire to tell him everything, get it all out of the way and see if he still stuck around projecting onto him.  Bruce shook his head.

 

“You learn after a while that the number of people who actually want to know you without there being an agenda is significantly smaller than those who want to know you while getting fifteen minutes of fame from it.” He said, Myrna looking perturbed by people behaving badly all the time it seemed.

 

“Must make you have a depressing outlook on humanity.” She commented, Bruce shrugging it off.

 

“It makes you more discerning about who you share things with.” He reached for her free hand resting on her lap, grasping it and letting his thumb run over the ridge of her knuckles, “You might find it hard to believe, but I find myself sharing more with you than I have anyone else in a long time.” He said, Myrna tilting her head as she searched his face, lifting her hand up to entwine her fingers with his.

 

“Besides,” he added, “I feel like if anyone should wonder about the fate of humanity, it’s you.  I saw one incident, but I imagine it’s like that more often than you’d admit…  How do you reconcile it being worth it to keep going?” He asked, Myrna tensing at his question, pulling her hand back and standing up abruptly and walking toward one of the large glass windows in the house overlooking the lake.  Bruce stood up quickly, following her as he realized he had upset her.  “Myrna-- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.” He said as she stared out across the water, the newly risen moon shining across the rippling water.

 

“It’s not the kids you know…” She said after a moment, looking up at Bruce’s reflection in the glass before she turned to face him.  “It’s their parents-- or lack thereof-- so many circumstances beyond their control.” She said, Bruce nodding, his hands coming to rest on her arms that were crossed just ahead of her.

 

“I didn’t mean to imply the children weren’t worth it-- but the abuse you must face from people who should know better…” He said, he had barely known Myrna when he had watched a grown man scream in her face and had been disgusted by the behavior he had seen.  It had angered him to see her treated like that and if it happened as frequently as he thought it might, he knew he would not put up with it as gracefully as she did.

 

“I do it because I promised myself I wouldn’t fail another child-- and because I know people like Penni and I might actually be the only stable presence in their lives… At least with us, even when they scream and tell us how much they hate us they know we’re not going anywhere.” She said, Bruce seeing, not for the first time, but certainly with the most clarity how much of her soul was in her work, why she was so willing to do whatever had to be done to see it through.  He understood it because it was very much like the promise he had made himself when he had taken on the mantle of Batman.  Swearing that he would rid Gotham of its evils, protecting people from the criminals of the world that would prey on them.  They might go about it in different ways, but the message was still the same and he felt his respect grow for her.

 

“I believe you, Myrna-- And I believe if anyone can keep that promise, it’s you.” He said, standing closer to her, Myrna’s eyes focusing on his mouth as the space between them became nonexistent. Her hands lifted to his face, her touch soft and gentle as her fingers brushed against the stubble spanning his jaw, following the lines forming at the corners of his eyes and back down, her fingers just fluttering against his lips, Bruce kissing her fingertips as they passed by. Finally he took the initiative, knowing this time they wouldn't be interrupted by Alfred, leaning forward and pressing his mouth to hers. She reacted to him as he had hoped, her lips forming to his, the two stealing a moment, just for themselves as they stood in the seclusion the woods provided them.  He felt her wrap her hands around him, her fingers coming to rest at the nape of his neck. His own hands on her lower back, pulling her to him until their bodies touched, even with the layers of their clothing between them, he felt a buzz rising in him as he felt her pressed against him; her lips moving in time with his own as he felt her warmth and softness with every touch.

 

His hands slid from her back to her waist, one hand coming to rest on her torso, just to the left of her and that's when he felt her go stiff against him, as his hands brushed over the area. She inhaled quickly, pulling back from their kiss, Bruce realizing something was wrong.

 

“Myrna?” He asked, catching his breath after delighting in the gentleness of her touch and then losing it. He felt her hand cover his on her left side and she looked down at where their hands met. “Are you alright?” He asked her, Myrna nodding slowly, looking back up from their hands.

 

“I just realized I haven't let anyone touch me there since…” she trailed off and he realized where their hands rested, just under the soft gray fabric of her dress was the scar she had been gifted during the attack on Metropolis.

 

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” he asked, concerned that perhaps even after two years it still ailed her.  She smiled and shook her head no, he was far from hurting her.

 

“No, the exact opposite of hurting me.” She responded, her hand tightening against his, keeping it firmly against her side, “It’s just been a long time since anyone’s wanted to touch me, that the last thing I remember of the sort was this scar being made… I think it just made me panic for a second.” She said letting out an annoyed laugh at herself.  Bruce lifted his free hand to her face, strangely motivated to find all the words he could to explain how much he wanted to touch her, HAD wanted to touch her and certainly a scar wouldn’t be what stopped him if the chance arose.  

 

“I would personally thank any man stupid enough to walk away from you… For any reason…” He said, Myrna looking at him warily, not sure where this was going to lead, Bruce leaning down to kiss her again, “Because now I have you all to myself.” He finished, feeling Myrna’s warm smile against his mouth as he closed the space between them once more.  He wasn’t kidding either, the more he got to know her, the more he felt of her, the more he wanted all to himself.  He wasn’t prone to this kind of thing, not since he had been a younger man; twenty years as the Batman had seen to that, but now he wasn’t sure where those twenty years had gone as he held this woman, standing in his living room with a moonlit lake just ahead of them.

 

He wasn’t sure of anything, she was chaos to him now-- but he wasn’t complaining…


	6. 12am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night wanes on, Bruce and Myrna becoming closer as it does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been told I'm a jerk for ending where I do as frequently as I do-- I guess it's a gift! Hopefully even when things are short it's enough to tide people over. 
> 
> If it helps, I've heard a few songs that make me think of Bruce and Myrna, so I'll post them as I find them. 
> 
> If they had a theme: Time by 2Cellos  
> Kingdom Come by Demi Levato  
> Apocalypse by Jackie Evancho  
> Have You Ever Been in Love by Jackie Evancho  
> Where Do We Go Lindsey Stirling feat Carah Faye

**12am**

If Bruce had been with anyone else, he knew how the night would have gone, it had become almost routine with him now; but he wasn’t with anyone else and he would have been content with Myrna staying with him all night (which she almost had) as they had; their moment together only encouraging Bruce to handle with care this new situation. He knew her well enough to realize tonight would not be like all the other nights and he was fine with that, he was realizing he needed far more from her then another one night stand would provide. They had stood at the window for a few moments longer, learning the touch of one another and taking their time before Bruce had led her back to the soft leather couch before the fireplace, the two of them watching the flames, continuing their conversation, Bruce sitting comfortably back with Myrna tucked beside him as they talked.

He got to know more about her, their conversation in the car to the gala minor compared to this moment. He learned Myrna was an only child, who had played the cello since she was nine but didn’t have time to do much more now than play at home when she had a free minute. Her parents had been foster parents for several years before she was born and she had grown up hearing about a broken system that often failed children who needed someone there for them the most, one of many things that had encouraged her to get her degree in elementary education and later a masters in education and administration as she healed from her wounds and planned her school's future; her parents had been married for 36 years, something even Bruce could admire, given these days you were lucky to find a couple that was in it for the long haul. She was clearly a devoted daughter, proud of her parents, her father was a professor of graphic communications at a local Metropolis college, her mother owned a small antique store in the downtown quarter of the city. They had not been thrilled when their daughter, who they had nearly lost to the attack on Metropolis and her near fatal injury, had elected not to go back to her safe and secure teaching position in a kindergarten classroom in suburban Metropolis once she had healed, rather up and moved to Gotham, away from them and opening a school in the heart of what could only be described as crime central, to work with those children who were most at risk.

“I believe the exact term my mother used when I told her was ‘bat-crap crazy’.” Myrna said with a laugh, she couldn’t necessarily disagree with the woman who had given her life, her plan to open a school had only just formed in her mind when she had asked her friend and fellow teacher, Penni if she would join her-- when Penni had agreed without much of a second thought, it became reality and one she couldn’t say hadn’t been entirely nuts.

“I can understand why she would feel that way…” He responded, Myrna turning away from the fire and toward him from where she sat at his side, an arm wrapped around her, moving to rest against her waist as she turned, her hand coming to rest on his chest as she looked at him.

“Are _you_ calling me bat-crap crazy?! I am SHOCKED I tell you, shocked!” she said not at all serious about the offense she was claiming. He gave her one of those half smiles she had become accustomed to from him and frankly was starting to adore seeing.

“It’s entirely possible I’m calling you just a little crazy.” He responded, Myrna poking his chest with a finger.

“Listen here, Wayne-- I don’t care if you ARE almost a foot taller than me and your arms are as big around as my head, those are fightin’ words!” she said laughing as one of those arms tightened around her and he leaned his face toward hers.

“I don’t know that it would be a fair fight.” He said as she met him halfway for another kiss, “I’d be too distracted by this mouth of yours.” Myrna feeling her face heat against her will as he kissed her softly. She’d been single and on her own romantically speaking for long enough that she wasn’t used to this kind of attention being lavished on her. She was a little afraid of how much she liked it, given they were only on day three of knowing one another and for all she knew he would get bored of her by tomorrow. She smacked the thought back as she enjoyed another kiss freely given to her by the dark haired man holding her and decided she would just have to be who she was and if this was all it ended up being, then at least the memory would be enough to tide her over until whatever else was in store for her. She was brought back to the present when Bruce looked at her, pushing her hair from her eyes again.

“As crazy as it might seem, I’m glad you came to Gotham… And to me.” He said, Myrna giving him a look and that shy grin he would always want to see if he could manage to get it out of her.

“I see I’ll have to work harder at scaring you off.” She joked, Bruce shaking his head.

“I’ve seen plenty of scary things, sorry to disappoint you, but it would take more than you’ve got to manage it.” He said, Myrna feigning disappointment, which was interrupted by the sound of a notification from Bruce’s phone that was sitting on the glass table beside them. Bruce reached over to turn the phone to silent when Myrna saw the time on his wrist watch as he shifted to do so.

“Oh my giddy aunt…” She said as she saw the time, “It can’t possibly be that late.” Bruce looking at his watch as well seeing it was nearly two in the morning. He was used to being up at strange hours, usually fighting or following criminals and these days sleep didn’t usually lead to rest, which meant it hadn’t even occurred to him how late it had gotten. Myrna sat up from where she had been resting against him not even sure how she was supposed to get home when it wasn’t even the same day as when she had gotten here. She looked at Bruce trying to explain the predicament he undoubtedly knew and might possibly have created by having someone pick her up.

“You could always stay here.” He offered, knowing what she was thinking and also that she would likely decline. Myrna laughed, as she stood and smoothed out her skirt.

“I can’t say I’m not extremely tempted-- But I think it would be better if I went home… I can’t play hooky from work, especially when one of the staff knows where I’ve been all night.” She said teasingly, Bruce stood with her, running his hands down her arms and looking at her with none of the disappointment he was feeling. Not disappointment at things not leading to something more physical, but the thought of her staying with him anyway wasn’t beyond him.

“Then home it is.” He said, walking to the small table by the door grabbing the keys to his car. Myrna feeling bad that it seemed she would be dragging him out in the wee hours of the morning to take her home.

“I hate making you leave at a time like this to get me there though.” She said, Bruce offering his hand as she finished buttoning her coat and grabbing her purse.

“I kept you out late, besides, I still get more time with you, that’s enough to make it worth it.” He responded, Myrna becoming impressed with the number of times he had managed to make her feel like she was the most spectacular being on the planet right now; it was a gift he seemed to possess. The next twenty minutes were just as wonderful as the rest of the evening and by the time he pulled them into the driveway of her own home, despite it being almost 3 in the morning, they found it difficult to part.

“Myrna, I want to see you again--” he started, “But I have some things I have to get done the next few days, work related…” He felt strange lying to her, the work having nothing to do with Wayne Enterprises but an attempt to steal the Kryptonite from Lex Luthor as Batman. After making the case for her to trust him again, he didn’t feel right not telling her the truth, but he recognized the less she knew, the better off she would be. She seemed a little disappointed but nodded.

“I understand-- You know where to find me when you’re free.” She responded smiling at him from her seat next to him, Bruce nodding and slipping out of the car to open her door for her and walk her to the house. He walked her up the stairs of the porch, the house dark, Penni apparently having given up on waiting for a report on the evening and going to bed since it was a school night. As they stood before the door of her house, Bruce pulled her to him again, stealing one more kiss from her. When they parted he found himself not wanting to go but knowing there wasn’t much choice at this point.

“I will see you again, Myrna.” He said, Myrna giving a small snort.

“Well, obviously, how could you resist?” She said kiddingly, but she had no idea how right she was. He hadn’t wanted to be around someone like he wanted to be around her in so long, the feeling was impossible to ignore.

“You’re right, I can’t.” He responded, brushing his hand along her jaw, catching her eye for a moment before she dug around in her purse for her keys, unlocking the door and slipping inside. He made his way back to his car, the chill of the 3am biting at his face as he got in, looking up as the light in Myrna’s room turned on and he saw her silhouette in the window, telling him she was safely home for the night. Turning the car on, he sat for a moment as the warmth from the heater washed over him, watching her shadow as she moved across the room, getting through her evening routine, far later than expected, after a moment of thinking on their evening together before pulling out of the driveway for home. His head was filled with certain possibilities but he was being reminded as he drove the outskirts of Gotham those possibilities might not actually be given what he was trying to accomplish. His heart had been so filled with rage for Superman and his ilk’s part in the devastation two years ago, the deaths of so many that it was all he had been able to focus on. Now with Superman continuing to be in the news, the debate on what limitations human governments felt they could possibly achieve on him that rage had only been stoked.

And then Myrna had appeared and he was realizing she was doing something to him that made the rage diminish, the idea of not being with her becoming less appealing every time he was with her. He had to remind himself that he was doing this for Myrna, in a way-- The threat Superman had become was all too real and he could do something about it if only he had the appropriate weapon. No more media, no more talk of sanctioning an alien with powers beyond anything the world had ever seen. He could do that for all of them, for her after tonight, he would see to it.


	7. Batman, meet Myrna, Myrna, Batman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myrna spends the day catching up on work and thinking about Bruce Wayne, but doesn't realize she's in for an even more surprising introduction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm kind of excited for this part, for reasons I'm sure you'll discover. It was a little more thrilling to write than some of the other chapters and we're finally getting into some sexier moments, that I'm sure you've all been waiting for! Thank you to those who have commented and bookmarked and kudo'd my work, it really has been an ego boost the last few weeks! I hope it continues being worth your time!

Myrna woke to her alarm as she usually did, ready to chuck it against a wall for interrupting what little sleep she had managed after getting home so late.  It took her a moment to come to complete consciousness, but when she did, despite being tired, found she was in a much happier mood than she would be normally. She gave herself a moment to think on the night before, her face growing warm as she remembered being held and kissed particularly well by a certain someone.  She felt a thrill shoot down her spine from where she lay in bed, trying not to let herself get too carried away with her thoughts because she still had a day of work ahead of her-- besides, she knew Penni would be waiting for her eagerly downstairs (Penni dragged herself out of bed at 6am like it was nothing, on her best day Myrna couldn't manage that) and wouldn't be willing to wait for a recap of the night.  She heard her phone buzz next to her, notifying her of a message. She ignored it until the thing practically dropped off her nightstand, more notifications, until she grabbed it, seeing it was Penni inundating her phone, her friend apparently knowing she was awake. 

**7:01am**

**PM:** _I have prepared breakfast for both of us so you don't have an excuse not to tell me what happened._

**7:01am**

**PM:** _ I went to bed at 11:30 last night, you weren't here. I woke up at 1am because I had to pee, you weren't here… I know you're home but I know it wasn't a decent hour that brought you here.  _

**7:02am**

**PM:** _Swift, you better shake a tail feather and get down here or so help me I will FIND you…_

**7:05am**

**PM:** _ I know you're awake. _

 

Myrna laughed at her friend’s persistence.  Sometimes she wondered if Penni had better things to do than listen about Myrna’s personal life or lack thereof.  She saw a missed text that wasn't from Penni and went back to her messages. She smiled happily as she saw it was from Bruce.

 

**6:30am**

**BW:** _Hope you slept well. I didn't-- Bet I would have had you stayed._

 

Myrna had considered her decision to leave last night and although a very primal part of her brain had been screaming at her most of the remaining night, that she was insane for having left the very welcoming arms of Bruce Wayne; the more reasonable part of her brain reminded her that as much as she was starting to care for him, there was still something about him that made her pause. It wasn’t something she could name yet and she didn’t know if his lack of being forthcoming about it was simply her imagination or because it had been such a short time between the two of them meeting.  Either way, an ugly surprise making its way between them, as desperately as she didn't want that to happen, was better to happen now, before they shared something she definitely couldn't take back, than after.  However, that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to work whatever power she had over this situation within an inch of its life.

 

**7:07am**

_ I slept ok… I was a little cold though, think you could help with that? _

 

She was a little surprised to see the text bubble pop up almost immediately indicating he was responding, she waited with (perhaps) more bated breath than was entirely necessary, but this sort of thing didn’t happen to the likes of her; having a handsome, intelligent, debonair billionaire (much less a handsome, intelligent debonair man with 10 cents in his pocket) give her the time of day, much less kiss her like he meant it and keep talking to her the next day.

 

**7:07am**

**_BW:_ ** _ I have no doubt I could find a way to help you with that incredibly unfortunate problem. _

 

Myrna gave herself permission to let the thought of what Bruce had in mind enter her own and she wasn’t displeased with what it was coming up with, of course, she didn’t want to admit to anyone, not even Penni, just how vivid of an imagination she might have on that front.  She didn’t have the opportunity to think on the matter for much longer, her phone buzzing again, only this time threats of significant violence were coming from within her own house for not getting a move on.  She didn’t know what she was going to tell Penni, at least not without sounding like women she frequently mocked in life and literature for falling for a man after the briefest interludes.  She grabbed a dress from her closet, whipped a brush through her hair and applied her makeup in record time.  No point in annoying Penni further and maybe the faster the work day went, the faster the weekend would come and the potential for seeing Bruce once he was done with the business he had said he would be dealing with the next few days.  Pulling her hair back into her dragonfly clip and taking one last look to make sure everything was in place, she stepped out of her room and down the stairs to the kitchen where her best friend and possibly now murderer from being forced to hold out for a story for so long, waited for her.

 

* * *

 

 

The day ended up being insane, which Myrna hadn’t quite expected; after sitting down to breakfast with her friend and telling her everything (or just about, there were a few things that she hadn’t felt like sharing), Penni had lightened up on Bruce a bit, thinking perhaps the man had managed to redeem himself after the museum incident.  Though she was still going to be scrutinizing his every move until she decided he had done enough to prove himself worthy of Myrna.  They had gone to work, the teachers feeling every bit of it being Friday as the kids were, the work on the roof had commenced into the day, so between kids being kids and trying to keep them focused on schoolwork instead of the banging and occasional sound of a saw ripping through the halls, no one got anything done.  As it was, Myrna had had to take most of her paperwork home, a lot of it things that should have been completed a few days ago, but suddenly having a life had put it on hold.  It being a weekend made it even harder to remind herself she needed to keep on it anyway, halfheartedly scratching out a few more grant proposals and shuffling through paperwork, checking the clock far more often than was necessary, just to find hardly any time had passed at all since the last time she had looked.  By the time she had finished the giant stack that had been sitting in front of her on the coffee table, it was almost midnight and neither she or Penni had eaten, nor were they interested in cooking, almost immediately agreeing they would get takeout, and the only disagreement being what that takeout would be considering how late it was.

 

“Pizza?” Penni threw out there, Myrna shaking her head no. 

 

“Eh, no.  Burgers?” This time it was Penni’s turn to say no. 

 

“I kind of want something not American-- Chinese?” She offered, Myrna thinking on it for a minute and agreeing; there was a Chinese takeout place they frequented within walking distance of the house that was open until 2am, apparently they had found the right crowd to serve to as they had maintained these hours for years.  Despite the lateness, she found herself thinking it might be nice to get out of the house for a moment and clear her head of the cobwebs from the day. She had barely gotten through the workday, she didn't want to start her weekend that way too. 

 

“Sounds good-- You order and I'll go get it?” She offered, Penni whipping her phone out before Myrna had even finished her sentence. 

 

“I’ll order it, but are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?  It’s so late...” She asked as she dialed, Myrna nodding as she grabbed her coat and purse.

 

“It’s not that far, ten minutes there and back tops and I’ve got my mace…” She added, her friend shaking her head as Myrna heard her begin to order, knowing the place was fast and it wouldn’t hurt to get started. The cool evening air swirled around her face, mixing with her breath as she walked down the street toward the little strip of laundromats and restaurants that littered the neighborhood.  It was one of the few more well lit neighborhoods in the area; she had promised her parents when she was looking for a house in Gotham she would at least TRY to find a nicer neighborhood and for the most part it was.  There had only been one drive by shooting since they had moved here, which had to count for something and although the neighbors surrounding them were definitely not the friendliest, for fear of being dragged into gang drama, they weren’t the kind to break down doors or make demands of their neighbors.  Given it was Gotham City, she figured that was the best she could ask for; she was done living her life in fear of anything.

  
  


The walk to the restaurant was uneventful, Myrna taking in the trees that still had leaves and the chill nipping at her to move a little faster.  She got to the Chinese restaurant within a few minutes, the elderly owner, Mr. Li who practically lived in his restaurant recognizing her and waving at her with a friendly smile.

 

“Miss Myrna, you come visit us again!” He said, pulling the order slip off the counter with Penni and her usuals on them.  Myrna smiled and handed him her debit card; she liked Mr. Li, he was always nice when she came in, no matter the time and always threw in extra fortune cookies, joking they would owe him a cut of their winnings if one of the fortunes had the winning numbers.

 

“You’re the only place open this late that has decent food!” she said, he laughed as he swiped her card and poked at the credit card machine.

 

“Yes, yes, we stay open very late-- Keeps me young.” He said, shaking his gray head that it wasn’t actually keeping him young, but was still apparently worth it to him.  Penni had to agree that he and his family were some of the hardest working people she knew and only ever wanted them to be successful when she spoke to them during a stop for dinner.

 

  
“Well, Penni and I thank you for it.” She responded, the little old man bowing his head appreciatively as he handed her card back and went to the kitchen with a paper bag, ready to prepare their dinners for carrying.  Myrna took in a deep breath, the delicious scent of greasy, probably overly Americanized but so delightful anyway, Chinese food making her stomach rumble.  She hadn’t eaten much at all today, trying to catch up on everything she missed in the last three days and now her stomach was mutinying being forgotten.  She heard Mr. Li in the back having a somewhat heated conversation with his cook in Chinese, the old man shuffling back out from the kitchen with an apologetic look on his face and only one dinner in the bag.

 

“I apologize, good help very difficult to find these days-- He made your dinner all wrong, it will be a bit longer.” He said, Myrna shrugging, it was Friday night and she didn’t have any plans… Though perhaps she would soon… Nowhere to be and no rush to get there was enough at the moment.

 

“It’s fine, really-- I can wait.” She said, walking over to a small set of chairs lined up against the glass window front of the restaurant.  She went to sit down when something caught her attention from the corner of her eye, as though someone had been watching her and pulled back behind the wall of the building to avoid her seeing.  Myrna scanned the sidewalk for a moment, waiting to see if someone came by and shook her head, muttering to herself under her breath.

 

“Or maybe you’re just seeing things…” She said, realizing she could have been seeing her own reflection or a strange one created by the neon signs hanging in the window just ahead of her.  Despite mocking herself for being jumpy, she couldn’t shake the feeling she had actually seen someone and it niggled at the back of her mind as she sat down, waiting for her order to be remade.  She pulled her phone out and texted Penni a quick update about having to wait for her dinner to be completed and that she might be a few minutes longer.  She didn’t say anything about thinking she was being watched because she knew Penni would send out the entire Gotham Police force if she thought she needed to and she didn’t want anyone to waste their time on her account.  Five minutes later, Mr. Li came back out with her takeout containers, putting them in the bag with Penni’s dinner and tying it tightly.

 

“I apologize again, Miss Myrna-- You have good night!” He said, handing her package over the counter to her.  Myrna smiled and thanked him, adjusting her purse over her shoulder and taking their dinners.  She pushed open the door of the restaurant and started the walk toward home, but it wasn’t lost on her she was still feeling very strangely.  Shifting the dinner bag so the loops were over her wrist, Myrna dug in her purse, pulling out her key fob with a heavy pile of keys and her mace, flipping it off safety just in case.  She might be overreacting, but she’d rather overreact and have nothing happen, than underreact and be dead because she  _ felt _ like she was overreacting.  As she passed through the one section of sidewalk that had very little lighting, it seemed Myrna’s fears were recognized as she heard another set of footsteps just behind hers, causing her to walk faster, but they kept in time.  Myrna looked behind her and felt her body chill to see the face of Martin Cooper, the father of Thomas Cooper, the very same man that  a few days ago had been violating a restraining order to come on school grounds; and by the way he was looking at her while stalking toward her, not only had he managed to get out of whatever consequence violating that order was, but had decided she would be the one to pay for his troubles.  

 

It was at this point Myrna broke into a run, trying to keep her head but not knowing where to go.  The nearest Gotham PD station was too far for her to run to and she didn’t want to go home in case it had been a fluke he had seen her.  She didn’t want him to know where she lived and she didn’t want Penni to be in danger because this man wanted to hurt  _ her _ .  If she could evade him long enough maybe she could get to one of the laundromats that were still open, maybe find other people or at least lock the doors to keep him out while she called for help.  It was so late that the street that would usually be bustling midday, was empty and silent. And given it was Gotham, no one was going to be opening their homes for some seemingly psychotic woman banging on their doors for help at almost one in the morning.

 

 She threw the bag full of hot food behind her, hoping it would make contact or at least make him fall behind to avoid it, not looking back to see if it did as she fumbled through her purse with her free hand looking for her phone.  She managed to unlock it as she ran, her lungs burning as she wasn’t someone who ran, much less marathoned as it seemed like she was needing to now, her fingers pounding 911 into the call screen, barely hitting send before she felt herself be grabbed from behind and thrown into an alley, the force from him pushing her, knocking her back against the hard brick of one of the buildings that formed it.  She heard her phone clatter to the ground from where she dropped it, praying it hadn’t shattered on contact and her attacker wouldn’t notice; if the call went through maybe there was still some hope someone could figure out where she was and send her help.  The angry man threw his hands on either side of her, forcing her up against the wall and keeping her from escaping.  He leaned down and screamed in her face, apparently unconcerned anyone might hear him.

 

“YOU THINK YOU CAN TAKE MY FAMILY FROM ME, YOU BITCH?!  YOU THINK YOU CAN GET ME THROWN IN PRISON, TAKE THEM FROM ME AND NOT GET WHAT’S COMING TO YOU?” He demanded, even in her current predicament, Myrna had to keep herself from screaming back that he was a self-serving prick and the loss of his family was because of his own stupidity, knowing it would serve nothing but possibly getting her killed.  She still had her key fob in her hand though, mace at the ready, but his grip on her arms was tight, the space between them small and she wasn’t sure she could get her arm up far enough to catch his eyes.

 

“Martin-- Let me go… If you do what you’re planning on doing, it’s just one step further from your son.” She said, hoping maybe diplomacy would get him to loosen his grip enough that she could do something to get him away from her entirely.  Apparently he had been thinking on this long enough that anything she said would just set him off, the man reacting badly to her invoking the thought of his son and hitting her squarely in the face with his clenched fist.  Myrna’s head was knocked back from the force of him hitting her, making contact with the wall and causing her to see stars; through the pain of her head hitting the brick, she felt her lip split and bleed, the left side of her face beginning to throb almost immediately.  

 

“YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU THINK YOU KNOW SHIT, BUT YOU DON’T, YOU MEDDLING BITCH!!” He yelled at her, pulling her forward and beginning to drag her further into the alley.  Even through the pain threatening to blind her, Myrna knew she couldn’t let that happen; she had no doubt if she did, she would be dead shortly.  She could hear him, muttering almost incoherently in her ear about her not liking him when he was done with her, that she had taken his son away from him and for that she would pay.  She tried to wrench her arms free from him, kicking and twisting to escape him, but he had a death-like grip on her, forcing her to comply despite fighting him.

 

“They wouldn’t tell me who reported me the first time, they wouldn’t give me a name, but I knew-- the SECOND my idiot wife took my kid to your FUCKING school, I knew… It was you, you FUCKING WHORE!” He shouted, shoving her forward away from the street and deeper into the darkness of the alley, Myrna finally trying a dead stop, her move so unexpected and surprising enough to throw him off, she was able to hit him with a freed elbow, right into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him long enough to lift the mace up, aiming for his face.  She engaged the button on the container, its contents spraying across at least one of his eyes, her attacker screaming as it hit the delicate tissues there, burning profusely.  Blindly he leaped for her as she tried to get by him, back toward the street and escape him.  She felt his fingers begin to wrap around one of her arms once more, preparing to turn herself and hit him again, she felt his fingers ripped off her, the man hollering in response to something.  Forcing herself to turn around, she saw just as he was pulled into the darkness he had been dragging her to, several seconds of pained cries, interspersed with loud thuds and cracking sounds before he was ejected back into the light, bloodied and bruised, hitting the wall not unlike she had earlier, sliding down to the ground and groaning as the full extent of his injuries were felt.  She looked back from where he had been thrown from and recoiled in surprise, letting out a gasp as she saw a figure standing just within the light.  

 

She could see it was a man, but his face was partially obscured, only the lower half of his face and his eyes could be seen-- after a moment she saw it was a mask, complete with pointed ears, the chest on the suit he was wearing stamped with a symbol bearing a striking resemblance to a bat.  Looking back up at his eyes, she realized she had just been saved by the Batman, a masked vigilante that she had read about in the papers and many of her students claimed to be during pretend play but doubted the reality of because she had never seen him.  Well, now she was seeing him, he was clearly real and she wasn’t sure what to do; she didn’t have to think about it long as he walked toward her, long black cape billowing out behind him and spoke.

 

“Are you alright?” He asked, his voice sounding strange until she determined he was wearing something to distort it, obviously to assist in keeping himself unidentifiable.  She found herself backing away as he came closer, knowing that many of the stories she had read about him were about a masked man who saved people and fought criminals, but between her throbbing head and coming down from the fight and flight response she had just gone through, she didn’t know who to trust right now.  He stopped walking toward her when he saw her move back, putting his hands up trying to show her he wasn’t a threat to her.  She found it difficult to believe of a man dressed as a bat who had just beaten the teeth out of the man attacking her, and wasn’t even breathing hard for it.  She pushed her hair out of her face and realized her dragonfly barrette was gone, maybe lost in the struggle or as she was running, it didn’t really matter; it was disappointing as it had been a gift from her parents from a long time ago and she loved it, it would just be an unfortunate casualty of this evening.  Blinking as she reminded herself of what her priorities needed to be, she looked up at the man before her, and nodded even though the movement made her head hurt.

 

“I’m fine.” She said though she couldn’t contain the wince as she lifted her hand to her face and it came in contact with her mouth to wipe away the blood her split lip had drenched her chin with.  She saw the Batman’s eyes snap to her mouth and move up her face where she had no doubt bruises were beginning to form, his lips tightened into a thin angry line, eyes snapping with rage and at the next groan that escaped her attacker, he moved with a motivated speed to grab him by his bloodied shirt collar, dragging him up from the ground, scraping his back against the brick and mortar of the building he had been slumped against.  The man who just moments before had been ready to rip Myrna apart was now crying out in pain as he was lifted off the ground by an angry man in a mask and cape, who reached for something on his belt, ripping it off, the sudden glow of it catching Myrna’s attention as she realized it was doing so because it was hot and the latest stories she had read about the Batman branding criminals were true.  She couldn’t understand why this person seemed to be in such a rage about a woman he didn’t know being attacked by a low life.  A healthy level of concern was one thing, but the way he was looking at Cooper right now, his hand clenched at the man’s throat, the brand poised to be used against the soft flesh of her attacker’s neck made it feel like it was far more personal than it needed to be.

 

Looking at the face of Martin Cooper and the fear there, she knew she couldn’t let what was about to happen, happen.  The Batman began to bring the brand down, the already injured man feeling the heat of it coming closer and trying to squirm away from it but didn’t have the force to manage it.

 

“Wait!  Stop!” she yelled, running forward, grabbing the arm of the Batman and tugged on it for stop him.  She was positive this was a terrible idea, he was lifting a man up by shirt collar like he weighed nothing after beating him senseless. It wasn't like he couldn't do the same to her if she annoyed him enough and frankly she didn't really know why she was coming to the aid of a man that had wanted to see her dead.  The Batman turned his head to look at her, his grip still tight on Cooper, he looked just as confused as she felt that she was stopping him from doing whatever he wanted to the cretin he was holding. 

 

“You can't…” she said, knowing full well that was a lie and the darkly dressed man in front of her could probably do anything he wanted without breaking a sweat, to either of them. 

 

“Of course I can-- he's a criminal and he's going to be treated like one.” He said as he turned back to what he was doing, Myrna grabbing his arm again, this time not letting go. 

 

“You're right, he's scum and he deserves everything that's coming to him--” she said, the Batman turning his head again to look at her pleading eyes, “in prison… Not here, not by you-- please, don't do this.” She finished as their eyes met again. 

 

Bruce looked at her from behind the mask of the Batman, he couldn't have known what kind of woman Myrna was until this moment, as she clung to his arm in an attempt to protect a man who would not have had a problem with her suffering until he had been pulverized himself. He had held her for the majority of a night, kissed her and listened to her but he didn't know that the grace he saw her use in situations far less dangerous than this one, extended to something like this.  It had only been by chance that he was here as it was-- his attempt to steal the Kryptonite from Luthor while it was being transferred from the White Portuguese under cover of darkness had failed due to an interruption from Superman himself; the Kryptonite disappearing into the night, while being greeted by a threat to desist as the Batman from the Kryptonian had left him infuriated, speeding back to the glasshouse to locate the truck carrying the mineral, now having to rethink how he would obtain it, more sure than ever that he was doing what needed to be done.

 

Alfred, who was not in support of Bruce’s plans to destroy Superman but maintained the loyalty he had for the man he had raised, would continue to monitor things while Bruce was on the streets as Batman.  The older man had been listening in to emergency dispatch in case anything useful came up, immediately calling for Bruce when he heard a call for police officers.  Bruce, who was still coming down from the rage of being threatened by a being far more dangerous than he would ever be, was annoyed he was inte rrupted, as despite his damaged vehicle, he had set out to do more reconnaissance at LexCorp until Alfred had put the call over the speaker system in his cowl.

 

“Master Wayne-- I believe you need to hear this.” He said, drawing Bruce’s attention to what he was hearing.

 

“9-1-1 dispatch, what is your emergency?” they heard the dispatcher say calmly over the phone as it connected, a crunching sound coming across the line like a phone was dropped to the ground,  a woman breathing hard and the echoing shouts of a furious man suddenly breaking through.

 

_ “YOU THINK YOU CAN TAKE MY FAMILY FROM ME, YOU BITCH?!  YOU THINK YOU CAN GET ME THROWN IN PRISON, TAKE THEM FROM ME AND NOT GET WHAT’S COMING TO YOU?”  _

 

They heard him yell, Bruce wondering why he was hearing this when it had nothing to do with Kryptonite, until he heard the response from the woman who was clearly being attacked.

 

_ “Martin-- Let me go… If you do what you’re planning on doing, it’s just one step further from your son.”  _

 

Bruce’s blood ran cold as he recognized Myrna’s voice and as far away as she sounded from the phone, he could tell she was struggling to stay calm.  He heard her cry out, the sound of something, likely a fist, making contact with flesh reverberating in his ears.  He barely heard the next words being shouted at her from her attacker, the dispatcher interrupting the call trying to make contact, obviously knowing they wouldn’t get a response from her but trying anyway.  Dispatch then began calling out for Gotham PD to converge in the area, though they hadn’t pinpointed where she was just yet.

 

“Where is she, Alfred?” Bruce growled, knowing his own technology was superior to that of law enforcement and would lead him to her faster.  Alfred immediately sent the coordinates he had for Myrna’s location, Bruce slamming his foot against the gas of his vehicle toward her.  He knew from hearing Myrna say the name, Martin, that this was none other than the son of a bitch that had been threatening her at the school the day he had come to ask her to the museum gala.  He had pulled up the man’s criminal record when he got back to the glasshouse, seeing a long list of domestic violence charges and offenses done under the influence of the man’s latest poison.  His soon to be ex-wife had finally gotten a restraining order for both she and her son during the weeks leading up to him coming to the school and his visitation rights to his son had been terminated after an incident of him letting the boy wander away from his apartment in the middle of the night as he was sleeping off a high.  Bruce had assumed he would be trouble but in his haste to get the Kryptonite, had not spent the time watching him to make sure he stayed away from Myrna.  It was by sheer luck that he was anywhere near her location to get to her in time as it appeared Gotham PD still didn’t know where to look for her.  Following the GPS location Alfred had provided, Bruce barely got his vehicle parked before leaping out of it and running toward the alley he knew Myrna was being attacked in.  He could hear her yelling for him to let her go, being shouted down that she was getting what she deserved for keeping him from his son.  Bruce had rounded the corner of the dark alley just in time to see Myrna stop short, tripping her attacker up long enough to throw her elbow solidly into his gut and winding him before raising her hand and catching him in the face with what he assumed was pepper spray, the low-life yelling out in pain as it hit him, flailing wildly to grab her.  

 

He didn’t have the chance as Bruce shot forward, yanking him back, the man turning in time to make contact with Bruce’s fist.  Within the shadows of the alley the man had intended to use to hurt Myrna, Bruce made sure to hurt him first, pulling no punches and certainly not sparing him broken bones and blood loss as he pounded his fists into the man.  The anger he had felt earlier about his run in with Superman was nothing compared to the rage he was feeling now that this sorry excuse for a man had put Myrna in danger. Now he was here, ready to slam the bat brand into his flesh and make sure he was sent somewhere people recognized it, the man’s fate in their hands and now he was being stopped by the one person who had every right to want to see that happen too.  He felt her fingers digging into his arm through the suit, saw her eyes pleading with him and had to marvel at the fact she was protecting someone who didn’t deserve it.

 

“He was going to kill you.  He doesn’t deserve your mercy.” He said simply, Myrna nodding in agreement but not letting his arm go.

 

“You’re right, there’s no reason for me to care what happens to him-- And I know that if you really wanted to, you could do this and there’s probably no way I could stop you…” She said 

 

“Then why?” he questioned her, hand still poised to drop the brand on the piece of trash ahead of them.  He felt Myrna move so that she could slide as far between the brand and Cooper as she could, her hand still following the line of his arm as though her touch might remind him she wasn’t going to let this go easily.

 

“Because of his son.” She said simply, Bruce looking down at her as she spoke.  Bruce realizing now that it wasn’t about Cooper at all and kept in perfect time with who Myrna was.

 

“His son?” He asked, watching her as she nodded.

 

“He has a son, a little boy who’s five years old-- He’s never had someone to look up to…” She started, Cooper even in his current, almost incapacitated state choking out a disagreeing sound, both Myrna and Bruce looking at him angrily and yelling simultaneously.

 

“Shut up!” Bruce turning his gaze back to Myrna, ill at the sight of her bruised and bloodied face and that he might have prevented this had he been more vigilant about her well-being.  

 

“Still sure you want to defend this filth?” He asked, Myrna giving him a half smile to avoid splitting her lip further.

 

“No… But I’m not doing it for him…  I’m doing it for his little boy--” she paused, looking him in the eye again, “and for you.” She said softly, Bruce wondering for a moment if she knew something, if she had seen something that made her realize he wasn’t a stranger.

 

“His son is better off without him, if he’s willing to do this to you--” He started and Myrna nodded in agreement.

 

“He is better off without this person in his life-- but I know Thomas and I know that every day he comes to school and tells me about the latest bad guy Batman stopped, he even practices being him at recess-- because that’s how much he wants to be like a man he’s never even met; because Batman protects people, he stops bad things from happening to little boys like him… He’s never had that kind of man in his life and if he finds out Batman did this to his dad, no matter how much he deserves it--” she stopped for a moment, her eyes sad at the thought of such a little person losing the one thing that made him feel safe, “I’m afraid we’ll lose him, and any faith he had in anyone will be gone.” She said, her other hand tentatively reaching out to touch the bat symbol on his chest, Bruce feeling sorry that she felt she had to hesitate to touch him, because she thought she didn’t know him.  He realized she was looking at him in a way he hadn’t seen before, directed at the Batman or not he could feel it to his core as she took a breath and finally laid her hand firmly against his chest.

 

“Don’t lose your soul over  _ him _ .” She finally said, the sound of police sirens breaking the through and disturbing the moment between them.  She risked a look out at the street, the red and blue of the emergency lights could be seen reflecting off the windows and bricks of the buildings opposite where they stood.  She looked back, concerned for him and saw him looking at her, now it was her turn to see him looking at her in a way that for her, was oddly familiar, she shook the feeling for a moment to get another sentence out, but it wasn’t leaving.

 

“You should go-- before they get here,” she started, the caped man still regarding her in that particular way, “let them take care of him, I don’t think he’s going to be able to get out of this one…” She said as the Batman gave a sharp shove to the man in his grip, his head whacking the brick wall again and he slid unconscious to the ground once more.  He clipped the brand he had been holding back into his belt and looked at her again, not able to stop himself from reaching his hand out over her injured flesh, fingers hovering over the spot, not wanting to cause her pain but angry it had happened at all.

 

“What are you going to tell them?” He said, Myrna noting his hand just over her face and how gentle he was being with her.  It was entirely possible that’s just who the masked vigilante was, why he did what he did, but her senses were on overdrive and they were telling her there was more to it than that.  She shrugged, trying to joke it off and not wanting him to stay longer than he needed to in case the police found them together.

 

“I’ll just tell them I’m a kickboxing champion or something.” She said looking down at the mess that was Martin Cooper and then back at him, “They’ll believe that, right?” Bruce letting out a snort, she might have been joking, but he wasn’t sure they wouldn’t-- she’d managed to land a pretty hard hit on Cooper before he’d gotten there.

 

“I’m sure they will-- Maybe I should retire soon, leave it to you and Mr. Cooper’s son here to protect Gotham.” He said, Myrna’s eyes flashing up at him, a chill shooting down her spine as she heard him say it.  She didn’t have time for more as Gotham PD found the entry of the alley and spotted her, guns raised as they yelled out orders to determine who was whom and which one needed to be arrested.  As she raised her hands to show she was unarmed, Myrna’s eyes shot back to where the Batman had been standing and was both relieved and surprised at how silent and fast his departure had been.  As she and Cooper were surrounded, she felt her heart start pounding harder, not because she was concerned about the police or what had just happened but because she realized the eyes she had just been looking into, hiding behind a bat mask were familiar for a reason-- they were familiar because she had spent the better part of an evening looking into them before any of this had happened and her life had ever been in danger.

 

They were familiar, because they belonged to Bruce Wayne.


	8. Who is to Blame for the Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myrna is home after her ordeal and wondering what she should do in response to finding out the man who was already becoming of her dreams, is more than he appears-- and is the man of her dreams suddenly realizing what he could cost her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've kept up with me so far, thank you! It is so very appreciated it. This chapter includes another original character, Dr. Ennis, who was created as a thank you for both reading my story and being so supportive of my writing for my real life best friend, of whom Penni is based. So in case you were wondering, he's a present. ;0)

By the time Gotham PD took her home, it was well into the wee hours of the morning.  She had been so annoyed with how long it took to file a report that she had allowed the paramedics that had arrived with the police to look her over but refused to go to the hospital because she just wanted to be done.  When she had signed off on her last statement and Martin Cooper was dragged off to a cell, screaming about being attacked by a giant bat, Gotham officers loaded her into one of their patrol cars and took her home.  As she made her way through the door, she realized Penni had called her parents, the two of them speeding all the way through Metropolis and Gotham to make sure their daughter was alright, everyone a mess as she entered the doorway.

 

“Myr!” She heard Penni and her mother breathe out at the same time as she turned to look at them, her cheek and eye swelling and bruising to an ugly shade of purple not long into her trying to complete her report with the police.  Her bottom lip had swollen up as well, though she had taken a moment in the station’s bathroom to gingerly wipe away the blood that was drying on her face from where it had split.  Some had dripped on her shirt, so she still looked like she’d been through a grinder, but at least she didn’t look like she was channeling an Anne Rice book anymore.  Her mother rushed over to her, grabbing her in a hug, which Myrna was grateful for, but felt every bruise as she was pulled into it.  

 

“Oh sweetheart, what happened?” she asked as she pulled back and looked at her daughter’s sore face.  Obviously she was scared and angry that her daughter had been attacked and Myrna was ready and waiting for the ‘I told you this place was too dangerous for you’ conversation that was bound to happen as soon as she was satisfied her daughter wasn’t going to die from her injuries.

 

“It looks worse than it is, mom.” She said, not really wanting to go through the run down of how she’d had the crap beaten out of her, much less worry her parents that a family she worked with directly through her school were to blame for her current state.  Yet another strike in her mother’s eye that she was putting herself at unnecessary risk for her work.  Her mom took her over to the couch, where Myrna sat down with a sigh as her aching body settled into the soft cushions, hearing her dad rustling around in the freezer for cold things to rest on her swollen face.  She prayed that went down quickly and she didn’t look like a clown for long.  He sat beside her and set an ice pack wrapped in a dish towel in her hand.

 

“You show me where you want it, I don’t want to make you hurt more.” He said softly, looking at his baby girl’s face with worry.  He had always been a strong supporter of his daughter following her heart when it came to what she wanted in her life, but even he was feeling concerned that her endeavor to help children in an area that didn’t seem to value what she had to offer was putting her life in far too much danger.  Myrna took the ice pack gratefully and set it against her eye and cheek, the cold sinking into the warmed and swollen flesh immediately, giving her some minor relief.

 

“Thanks, daddy.” She said with a smile as she let the cold do its work.  He patted her shoulder gingerly, not sure where all of her injuries were and not wanting to cause her discomfort.

 

“Any time, Critter.” He said with a smile.  She took a breath, as her parents and friend looked at her expectantly to know what had happened.  As she explained in as delicate of terms as possible what had happened, avoiding the fact Batman had shown up to save the day completely, merely saying the police had arrived in time before he did more than he had already done, her mother began to cry and her best friend’s own eyes began to well up.

 

“Myr, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault-- I shouldn’t have let you go out on your own so late, I should have come with you…” She said, her face showing how much she believed she was at fault for her friend getting hurt.  Myrna shook her head vigorously, her sore neck disapproving of the move but fighting through it anyway.

 

“No, none of this was your fault.  Not one second-- he would have hurt you for getting in the way, you know how unhinged he is and everything that happened was a direct result of what HE did.  Not you, so get it out of your head right now that you have anything to be sorry for.” She said, grabbing Penni’s hand with her own and giving it a reassuring squeeze.  Penni wasn’t completely convinced but didn’t say anything more.

 

“Did you at least go to the hospital?  Did they say it’s ok for you to be home?” Her mother asked, Myrna’s face going still and not meeting her mother’s eyes.  Even after 32 years, she was still afraid of making her mother upset and having not known her mother was going to be waiting for her when she got home, she hadn’t thought about it making her upset she hadn’t been to the doctor until just this moment.  Her silence was enough answer for the older woman, who sighed and shook her head.

 

“You didn’t, did you?” she said, Myrna shaking her head no.  “Myrna Elizabeth!  Why would you not go to the hospital after being attacked like this?  What if you’re concussed?  Or worse?!” She said, Myrna raising her free hand in surrender.

 

“Because it was almost 2am by the time I finished talking to the police and I was tired-- the paramedics looked me over at the scene and they said I was fine.  I just really wanted to be home so I can rest and hopefully stop looking like a blueberry soon.” She said, her mother letting out another irritated sigh, ready to keep going but her father took her mother’s hand and quieted her.

 

“Mary… She’s home, she’s safe, she’s had a long night-- we can scold her for being just like both of us later.  Let’s let her rest.” He said, standing up from the couch and looking down at his daughter.  “I think your mother and I would feel better staying here tonight if you and Penni don’t mind-- just in case you need us.” He said, Myrna and Penni both nodding.  Penni stood up from the couch as well, patting Myrna’s hand before directing them to their spare bedroom.

 

“There are sheets for the mattress in that closet there, I’ll go grab a quilt out of the wash.” She said heading for the basement of the house, allowing Myrna a moment alone, with no one hitting her, questioning her or looking at her with sympathy.  She took a deep breath, rubbing at her arm that was helping hold up her ice pack, hitting sore spots on her biceps where she had been grabbed roughly.  After a moment she let the ice pack drop from her face and set beside her, giving her skin a chance to breathe from the cold.  With the quiet and being alone she let her mind slide back to the question that had been pounding at her brain for the last few hours as she was forced to go through the exhausting process of reporting a crime.

 

Was she nuts or was she right that the man who had saved her life tonight, the Batman, was Bruce Wayne?  The same Bruce Wayne she had been seeing for the last three days in some fashion, that she had practically lain in the arms of for an entire night, sharing her life story with was actually a twenty year veteran of masked vigilantism?  On one hand it sounded completely insane.  Of all people, why would a man so frequently in the public eye, with so much to lose, risk someone finding out who he was while he was out on the streets fighting crime?  Further thought answered that; because who better to do it than a man who had substantial wealth to his name to pay for whatever he might need to be successful, including, no doubt, ways of protecting his identity that his company likely had a hand in creating for him.  Not to mention he had lived through the trauma of losing his parents that she knew, just from the experience she had working with kids that went through similar experiences, shaped the kind of things he would end up doing with his life.  If anyone would want to see criminality flushed out of Gotham, it would be a man who watched his parents die at the hands of a criminal.  She rubbed the side of her face that wasn’t bruised as she thought this through.

 

Even if it was true, how would she go about addressing it?  Should she even address it?

 

_“‘Oh hey, Bruce-- So I’m like, 99% sure you’re the Batman and I totally know you saved my life from a deranged man trying to kill me, care to confirm?’, sure that’ll go over really well, Myrna.”_

 

She thought to herself, knowing this might end up being a Catch 22 for her.  Everything would change between them if he knew she knew he had a secret like this-- and if he found out she knew, would he trust her?  Should she trust _him_?   How would that work for them if they decided they were serious about each other?  

 

_“Well that was presumptuous that he’d want to get serious with you, what are you?  The girl of his dreams?”_

 

What if she was wrong?  He’d think she was insane and he’d be right to because she was thinking the same thing of herself.  Then _he’d_ dodge a bullet and she would probably need a one way ticket to an asylum.  She sighed, standing up from the couch, the thoughts racing through her head making her pace.  She wasn’t wrong, she could feel it-- she had known he was keeping something from her as soon as they had begun spending time together; if she could claim a power it was knowing when someone was hiding something from her, she liked to think it helped her be decent at her job.  Aside from that, she knew the eyes she had looked into tonight; behind a mask or otherwise, a person couldn’t change what they kept in their eyes and what she had seen in the Batman’s was what she had seen in Bruce’s; they were one and the same. Plus there was the additional detail of him commenting about retirement, that even with whatever he used to disguise his voice, he had said it exactly as Bruce had when he had been talking to Thomas Cooper on the playground.  A coincidence for one, perhaps, but not all, it just defied math she couldn’t do at the moment, but knew would agree with her.

 

In her moment of overthinking, Myrna had managed to grab up the ice pack from the couch and walk it back into the kitchen to put in the freezer when a knock at the door startled her and brought Penni running from the spare room she had been helping set up for Myrna’s parents.  She had a slightly panicked look on her face as it was now almost 4am and anyone who was knocking at the door at this hour couldn’t have good news.  She looked at Myrna who was standing with the freezer door open, midway through returning her icepack to the shelf, the cold air escaping from it brushing against her as they looked at each other and then back at the door.

 

“Who is here at 4am like a stupid person?!” Penni said in a loud whisper, as though that would discourage further knocking, seeing as the lights were still on and there had been movement just a few seconds ago.

 

“I don’t know… Can you see anything through the door?” Myrna yell whispered back, Penni throwing her hands up like Myrna was the stupid person for suggesting it.

 

“What if it’s the dumbass who attacked you?!  I’m not opening the door for that, he could get me too!” She said, Myrna rolling her eyes from where she stood and shutting the freezer door.

 

“I _sincerely_ doubt he would KNOCK on the door to be let in, Penni.” She said walking toward the door to answer it herself, but Penni pushed her aside.

 

“Ok, fine-- but only because you look terrible.” She said, unlocking the door and slowly opening it to reveal a man neither knew, standing on their doorstep.  He was in his mid-thirties with dirty blond hair and a light stubble across his jaw. He had piercing blue eyes, and despite having dark circles under them indicating he hadn’t intended to be up this early, gave them both a friendly smile.  He wore a black double-breasted pea coat that he wore buttoned up, collar popped against the cold wind, his hands shoved deep into the pockets.

 

“Hello,” he started, a gentle Londoner accent escaping his lips, “I’m Dr. Aidan Ennis… I was looking for a Miss Myrna Swift.” He said, looking between them, though there really wasn’t a question of which one needed the doctor.  Then again, Myrna could feel Penni tense next to her. She knew her best friend well enough to know what she was thinking: if being injured brought a handsome, blue eyed British doctor to their door, Penni would be the first to throw herself down a flight of stairs.  She wouldn’t have been wrong to either.  The man was very attractive and exactly Penni’s type-- being British and a doctor was certainly just icing on a very handsome cake.  Despite the striking presentation of man in front of them, Myrna couldn’t help but be suspicious of his arrival and what a doctor was doing on their doorstep.

 

“I’m Myrna… And you’re here because...?” she asked, not trying to sound rude and failing.  Her body was screaming at her, not only because it was sore but because she’d had a grand total of three hours sleep of the last twenty-four and it wasn’t looking good for the rest of the weekend.  She felt the hand Penni had let come to rest on her arm as they answered the door tighten exponentially at Myrna’s rudeness, her fingers matching the bruises from her earlier escapades and making her jump with pain.  

 

“Ow?” Myrna said looking at her friend, who was smiling at the man standing ahead of them and ignoring Myrna’s exclamation of pain entirely.

 

“He’s here because he’s a doctor and someone broke your face, Myr.  We should let him in to do his work-- Am I right, Dr. Ennis?” She said, the man smiling back at her kindly.

 

“Yes, of course. And Aidan, please… no need for pleasantries here. I’m happy to be of assistance.” He responded, stepping carefully into the house as Penni pushed Myrna into the living room.  Myrna complied as she was directed back to the couch to have a seat as Dr. Ennis took off his coat, draping it across the back of one of the armchairs in the room.  He had obviously been woken up to tend to her, the poor man in jeans and an old worn t-shirt that showed the line of his chest and shoulders, as well as strong arms, bare from the short sleeves of his shirt.  His feet were stuffed into a pair of boat shoes with no socks, adding to the fact he had likely been roused from his sleep to come all the way to her home just to see her.  She was starting to suspect she knew who had sent him, and she didn’t know how to feel about it as she had learned plenty about them in one evening as it was.  Dr. Ennis sat on the edge of the coffee table just ahead of the couch, pulling a penlight from his pocket, he smiled at Myrna kindly and explained what he was going to do, flicking the light in different directions to watch the reaction of her pupils, likely to see if she was showing symptoms of having her brain scrambled from being thrown against a wall.

 

“Follow my finger, please.” He said, Myrna complying, eyes moving side to side and up and down without issue.

 

“So,” Penni said, sitting beside Myrna on the couch, both concerned for her friend but also to have a better view of the man examining her, “not that we aren’t glad to have you here to make sure my friend’s ok… but, uh, how did you know to come here?” she asked, Myrna relieved that despite how taken she was already with him, she was willing to ask the question she was thinking too.

 

“Yes, how _did_ you end up coming here tonight?” she asked.  With two sets of eyes on him, Dr. Ennis seemed a little uncomfortable, but took it in stride as he continued his examination.

 

“Ah, well, as you turned down a visit to the hospital, there was some concern from the officers who brought you home that you might need more medical attention than was provided.  I do occasionally help with cases such as yours, so they asked me to assist in ensuring your well-being.” He responded, and although he presented it in a tone that might have been good enough for most people, both Myrna and Penni’s heads tilted questioningly simultaneously.   If he noticed, he didn’t let on, sliding his penlight back into his pocket and reaching his hands out to direct Myrna’s head so he could see the contusions to her face more clearly.

 

“Is that a service Gotham provides frequently?  A doctor on call to do home visits for assault victims?” She asked, Dr. Ennis looking particularly enthralled by the swelling around her eye.

 

“You know, I _am_ relatively new to it, so I couldn’t say.” He said quietly as he gently opened her eye to check for any damage to the tissues of the one that had made contact with a fist.  Myrna was having a difficult time not calling this out for what it was, he was clearly lying and she knew why, though jumping up in the middle of her living room and yelling that she knew he worked for Bruce Wayne probably wasn’t going to help anything.  Her eyes slid over to Penni who apparently felt the same way.

 

“I was just curious,” Myrna said as his hands moved down her face to look at the split in her lip, “it seems it would be a costly service to the taxpayers of Gotham.” She said, Dr. Ennis shrugging without committing to an answer.  It seemed Bruce surrounded himself with those very much like him, sometimes impossible to read and full of secrets.

 

“Have you vomited at all since you were attacked?” He asked her, Myrna shaking her head, her stomach feeling oddly calm even after everything that had happened.  She even realized she was still hungry, somewhat lamenting the loss of what had promised to be a good dinner thanks to her deranged stalker.

 

“Any nausea or dizziness, ringing in your ears?” She shook her head no.

 

“Have you been able to walk without loss of coordination?” He added, with Penni chuckling next to her friend.

 

“That one might be hard to answer… Coordination hasn’t ever really been her forte.” She said, Myrna nodding in agreement.

 

“She’s not wrong: straight lines are hard,” she said light-heartedly. Dr. Ennis smiled, though Myrna noted his eyes kept flicking to Penni, her friend doing everything she could not to look back, though Myrna knew Penni could tell he was doing it.

 

“Well, it appears your pupillary reactions are normal, no obvious neurological damage that I can see.  The contusions on your face, though I have no doubt are painful, are superficial and should heal up in the next few days… I was told you were hit fairly forcefully against a wall-- might you be so kind as to let me look at the back of your head?” He asked, Myrna turning on the couch so her back was to him and he was able to look at her.  She didn't doubt he had been told she was hit forcefully-- though she bet the person doing the telling had mentioned he had beaten a man fairly forcefully for it.

 

“Miss…?” He began to ask, realizing he hadn’t been introduced to the dark haired woman sitting beside his patient.  Myrna slid her eyes to the side to see Penni blushing under her tan skin and contained a smile.  Her friend could be a shameless flirt at times, but when it came down to it, she could also be completely shy when an attractive man was talking to her.  Myrna didn’t know why; her friend was beautiful, smart and kind-- she had to be kind given she was friends with a stick in the mud like her.  She had risked just as much as Myrna had to help the school be a success, uprooted her own life to join her here and put things on hold because there was just no time for a social life.  Fighting through her blush, Penni introduced herself with a bright smile.

 

“Penelope-- Penni-- Melendez.” She said, surprised when he stuck out his hand, Penni reaching out to take it only to have him pull it gently toward him and kiss the back of it softly.

 

“Penelope-- That’s a beautiful name.  It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Penni.” He said, Myrna watching Penni from the corner of her eye, waiting to see if she melted right into the couch cushion.  Where Bruce found these people, she would never know, but at least this one seemed like a good man, even if he was a terrible liar.  Dr. Ennis continued on, Penni’s attention never leaving him.

 

“Would you do me a favor, Penni and bring that lamp a bit closer for me?  I think I’ll likely need the light.” He asked, Penni practically jumping up from the couch to do as he requested.  Myrna had to pretend to scratch her face to keep a smile at bay.  Penni hadn’t been this enthralled with a man since their new principal in Metropolis had taken over. She had claimed over and over he wasn’t her type, but for some reason had imagined many different ways they could “bump” into each other.  Myrna had had to remind her it was people like her that made the rest of them have to sit through awkward sexual harassment videos every year for training, even though she knew her friend would never really intend to do any of what she said.

  


Penni pulled the lamp off the table, moving it closer to her friend’s head.

 

“Is that alright?  Can you see, doctor?” She said, Dr. Ennis nodding and smiling up at her from where she sat.

 

“That’s perfect, you’d make an excellent nurse. And really, Aidan, please.” He repeated as he got to work on Myrna’s head.  Although she had known she had hit her head, she hadn’t thought it had broken skin, her whole head throbbing enough that she assumed it was because of her face and stress.  She was unpleasantly surprised when her hair was moved and he made contact with the very painful spot on the back of her head, Myrna wincing and letting out a small hiss of air when she felt it.

 

“My apologies, Miss Swift: it appears you have a small gash back here, nothing too serious but I think I should likely tend to it.  If you’ll give me a moment, I have something in my bag in the car that should do the trick.” He said, gently letting her hair down from where he held it up.  Dr. Ennis slipped out the front door to the car parked in front of their house, Penni practically pole vaulting to the door to watch him through the glass insert.

 

“Oh Dios mío… You beautiful, beautiful man…” she breathed as she watched him lean into the trunk of his car. Myrna gingerly touched the back of her head, now the back of her head throbbing to join the rest of her.

 

“Your beautiful, beautiful man is Dr. Kevorkian in disguise…” She said, only half joking. If he found any more injuries she didn't know about though, she might have to throat punch him. Penni shot Myrna a look from where she stood at the door, apparently taking Myrna’s insult personally on behalf of her newfound interest.

 

“Te puedes ir para las mismas pailas del carajo.” She said smiling at Myrna, even though Myrna knew better than to think she was smiling at her because she liked her.

 

“Don't act like I don't know when you're cussing at me in Spanish.” She said, wincing again as she found the spot on her head. She was starting to realize she was turning into her kids at work, the more you told them not to mess with something the more they messed with it.  Penni snorted as she looked back out to the car where Dr. Ennis was digging through.

 

“Who said I think you don't know?” She said, letting out a small gasp and running back to the couch, the door opening seconds later for the handsome doctor to return. Myrna shook her head, she adored her friend but they could be such a clown show sometimes. Setting his bag down, Dr. Ennis pulled out a surgical needle and suture, slipping on gloves and preparing to take care of the wound on Myrna’s head.  Penni dutifully pulled the lamp over again, holding it to shine light on the spot again. He got started, anesthetizing the area, checking with Myrna that it didn’t hurt before he began to suture the wound. As he worked, he cleared his throat.

 

“So, Penni--” he said, “what do you do for work, if you don't mind my asking?” Myrna could practically hear Penni’s face crack into a smile.  Oh, she was loving every second of this.

 

“I’m a teacher-- at the Swift Academy.” She answered, Dr. Ennis giving her a thoughtful smile as he focused on making small, precise sutures.

 

“Ah, shaping young minds, sounds very rewarding. What stages do you teach?” he asked, but taking a second to realize he was referring to schooling as though he were still in Britain, which Myrna had no doubt Penni was melting over.

 

“Oh! I work with third graders at the academy,” she started, “8 year olds.” She added when he looked at her for translation.

 

“Seems like an rambunctious age to work with.  Do you enjoy it?”

 

“Though there are days I wonder what I’m doing, I feel like what we do makes a difference.” She said, Dr. Ennis looking up from his work for a moment to meet her eyes.

 

“I’ve heard of the Swift Academy, so I have no doubt you do good.” He told her, a sincere look in his eyes,  Penni having to calm herself before she turned maroon.  After a quiet second, Penni took in the moment before continuing the conversation.

 

“Where did you go to medical school?” she asked, Myrna biting her tongue so as to not ask as well, but far more sarcastically.  Even though she was starting to feel a bit like a third wheel in the conversation happening behind her, she was glad Penni was making small talk with him.

 

“University of Oxford-- my father’s first choice,” he admitted as he made another suture, “I would have gone to Cambridge, but old rivalries and all that…” He said with a quiet chuckle.

 

“I’m sure he’d be proud of his son becoming a doctor no matter where he went.” She said in a complimentary tone, Dr. Ennis giving an unsure sound in response.

 

“Ehhhh, I don’t know about that-- a son trained as a doctor from Oxford was less likely to be disowned than a son trained as a doctor from Cambridge!” he said, Penni perishing the thought.

 

“Parents-- Am I right?” Dr. Ennis nodding in agreement.

 

“Of course, my mother would have been thrilled had I gone on to be a concert pianist as she had hoped for.” He said, Myrna surprised that Penni hadn’t dropped the lamp on her head to plant a kiss on the man right now, knowing she was a sucker for a man who played an instrument.  Any.  Instrument.

 

“You play the piano?” she asked him.

 

“Yes, started playing when I was very young.  Kept it up through university, but sadly haven’t much time to play it but occasionally.  When my mother visits I’ll tickle the keys to make her happy, but my skills aren’t what they used to be.” He said as he trimmed the length of suture left from the tiny stitches he had made, pulling Myrna’s hair aside to show her friend for her perusal.

 

“Well, from what I can see, you have very talented hands.  No matter what school you went to.” She said approvingly, Dr.  Ennis giving her an appreciative smile as he put his tools away in a sterile bag, pulling his gloves off to prepare to go.

 

“Thank you, Miss Melendez.” He said, Penni smiling back at him sincerely.

 

“Of course-- though I thought we weren’t doing pleasantries, Penni-- Please!” She added.

 

“Ah, well, Miss Swift, I have done what I can to patch you up. I’ll check in with you in a few days to make sure you’re still well and to discuss when to remove the sutures. The wound was small, so I don’t expect it should take more than a week for it to heal enough.” He said as he shut his bag with a zip.  Myrna stood up facing him as he gave instructions on keeping the area clean and to call him should she find herself needing his services sooner than that, handing her a card with his information.  He turned to look at Penni, wanting to say something but looking a bit sheepish to say it with Myrna standing there, eyes looking back at her a bit pleadingly.  Myrna didn’t need to be told twice, clearing her throat and heading for the stairs.

 

“Uh, Dr. Ennis, thank you so much for stopping by and taking care of me. It’s been... a day, night, I don’t even know what time it is other than bedtime; so, if you’ll excuse me.” She shook his hand in thanks again, walking up the stairs, giving Penni a wide eyed stare and a thumbs up as she climbed them as Dr. Ennis turned back to Penni, who was willing her friend to move faster before turning a bright smile to him as he faced her.  Myrna waited at the top of the stairs and out of sight, thanks to a wall, listening in as Dr. Ennis, previously polished and professional, spoke to Penni.

 

“Miss… Penni… I don’t do this sort of thing, normally-- I try to remain professional at all times when I’m working with patients, but I find myself very interested in getting to know you better… Seeing as I didn’t come here tonight to treat you, I don’t believe I would be violating any patient-doctor privilege. As such, I was wondering-- would you… I mean, that is if you’re free to… Have...” It was cute how much he was tripping over his words trying to talk to her and Myrna was genuinely happy someone recognized what a beauty her best friend was.  Penni, having trouble containing herself smiled.

 

“Coffee, a drink-- Dinner, maybe?” She offered, Dr. Ennis letting out a relieved laugh that she knew where he had been going with this.

 

“Yes… Please… If you’re free of course.” He said, not wanting to overstep, Penni bouncing up and down before getting a post it from the kitchen.

 

“Cariño, my schedule is wide open!” She said, as she wrote her number down for him, walking him to the door.  Even though the sun was breaking over the horizon and no one had gotten any sleep, Penni was wide awake now.

 

“Good,” he said pleased, “I look forward to you teaching me what ‘cariño’ means…” He said with a happy smile as he stepped out the door, Penni leaning out after him.

 

“Uy si besas como caminas…. ” Dr. Ennis shook his head as he walked away to the car.

 

“Perhaps not-- I think I’d much rather enjoy listening to that beautiful accent.” He said, Penni now having to shake her head back.

 

“Makes two of us, _doctorrrrr…_ ” She said rolling her Rs teasingly, shutting the door as he got into the car and Penni leaning back against the door, Myrna coming back down the stairs, a wide and dorky grin on her face.

 

“Girrrrrrrrrrrrrl.” Penni breathed, waving her hand in front of her face to cool herself down as she saw her friend creep back downstairs.

 

“Should I call him back?  Tell him your heart stopped and you probably need mouth to mouth?” Myrna joked, Penni looking at her, entirely serious.

 

“Would you?  Because I do!  That man, wooo-- I can’t even.” She said as she floated towards the stairs with her friend.

 

“I might…  He’s a pretty good looking man, I might need a closer look” she joked, Penni shaking her finger at Myrna.

 

“Uhhhh-unnnnh, no you don’t!  You go to your Mr. Wayne with that talk, keep your paws off my darling doctor!” She threatened, the two of them tiredly trudging up the stairs as it seemed the night finally came to an end for them both.  She knew Penni had been joking about Bruce, but the reminder of him got her mind racing again.  She still had no idea what to do about what she found out.  She didn’t know how she felt about it.  She didn’t know how to respond to it.  All she knew is she cared a great deal about him and didn’t want to be the reason everything ended; which was odd, considering she wasn’t the one with the mask.

 

Though it certainly felt like she was.

* * *

 

 

While Myrna went to bed wondering about her future with Bruce, he stayed awake, thinking about the same.  He had returned to the glasshouse in an even worse mood than he had been before his failure to obtain the Kryptonite. It seemed the night had been full of failure and he was beginning to realize things he had been trying to ignore for the last few days because of it.  Alfred had been waiting for him when he had pulled his still damaged vehicle into the bunker under the glasshouse, the older man quiet as Bruce jumped from the driver’s side of the vehicle and stalked up the stairs to where he waited.  Bruce had pulled his cowl off, the cool air provided by the natural stone and running water they were surrounded by down here, cooling his heated skin.  He dropped the bat mask unceremoniously on the desk near the computers and immediately pulled up the CCTV feed he had hijacked from Gotham PD’s system.  He found the cameras he needed,  several trained on the man he was looking for.  Martin Cooper sat in a holding cell awaiting his move to prison, surrounded by a few other low-lives and fitting right in.  One eye was swollen shut and a few other injuries Bruce had left on him looked painful-- which was the most satisfaction he was going to get tonight.  He heard Alfred come up behind him, silently taking in the same scene on the computer screen.  The silence stretched for a few moments until Alfred finally broke it.

 

“I take it you got to Miss Swift in time?” he asked.  Bruce’s fists clenching on the desk he rested them against, eyes never leaving the visage of Martin Cooper, who was now pacing, with a pathetic limp in his gait, around the cell.  

 

“He put his hands on her, Alfred.  He put his hands on her and he would have killed her.” He said through gritted teeth, a fire in his belly to track this man down and beat him senseless again being stoked with every second he watched him, safe and sound in the arms of Gotham PD.

 

“But you managed to thwart that plan, did you not?” Alfred attempted to see the positives of the situation, Bruce preferred to remain firmly in the negatives.

 

“She might have managed to get away from him, she threw a decent punch on him, but if you hadn’t been monitoring the dispatch line-- if I had been any further away-- or a few seconds later…” He said, realizing he was just as infuriated with himself as he was Martin Cooper.

 

“You’re getting wrapped up in ifs, sir… You couldn’t have known what he was planning on doing.” Alfred said, attempting to calm Bruce down, he recognized when the younger man was working on blaming himself for the wrongs of the world.  It wasn’t doing much good in helping him come down from the guilt he was beginning to feel about Myrna, about everything.

 

“I knew he was a threat to her, the moment I saw him at her school.  Jesus, Alfred, I even looked into his record, I knew what kind of man he was and I didn’t do a damn thing to keep him away from her.” He said, mentally battling himself about what this was accomplishing.  The computer screens showing him Cooper went black, Bruce’s eyes ripping away from them to look at Alfred, fingers still poised over the controls.

 

“Master Wayne, you are a grown man so I won’t waste both of our times explaining to you there is nothing more you can do about this situation.  The threat that was Mr. Cooper has been neutralized and he is in custody.  She is safely out of harm’s way now;  I assume you have seen to Miss Swift’s injuries?”  He asked, sensing it was going to take a metaphorical cold shower to cool Bruce down from the point he was at.  Bruce straightened from where he leaned against the desk, still tense.

 

“I sent Ennis to her house to check on her-- she refused to go to the hospital.”

 

“Ah, well, we both know Aidan is a talented doctor, I have no doubt he will be thorough in his examination.” He said simply as he turned to walk away and inspect the damage to the utility vehicle, Bruce looking at him as though he were insane.

 

“And that’s that is it?” Bruce said, trying to figure out why Alfred’s response was so underwhelming.  Although Alfred tended to be the cooler head of the two, Bruce knew he liked Myrna a great deal, mentioning more than once since meeting her less than two days ago that he looked forward to seeing her at the glasshouse again.  Now it seemed like he was treating her as though she were just another Gotham citizen Batman had saved, or worse, one of Bruce’s one night stands.  Alfred gave a small shrug of his shoulders.

 

“What more is there to say?” he asked, Bruce finding himself angry at how nonchalant Alfred was being.

 

“I don’t know, Alfred-- She could have been killed tonight, I feel like there’s plenty to be said about it.”

 

“But she wasn’t and you letting yourself get into a tizzy over her seems quite out of character, Master Wayne-- You’ve only known her for a few days, I wonder why you feel so moved about her condition.” He said, causing Bruce to bristle toward Alfred in a way he hadn’t in a very long time, not since he was a child.

 

“So I shouldn’t be angry she was attacked and I could have prevented it from ever happening because I haven’t known her long enough?” He demanded, Alfred turning back to Bruce, tilting his head as he regarded Bruce.

 

“I don’t believe that’s what I said.”

 

“Then what _are_ you saying, Alfred, because frankly I’m at a loss.” He said, desperate to understand Alfred’s reasoning.  He could list a plethora of reasons why Myrna was worth the fuss Alfred seemed to be under the impression he was making.  

 

“I'm saying, sir, that perhaps you might consider _why_ it matters so much that you didn't keep what happened to Miss Swift from occurring.  You may be surprised at what you discover.” He said with finality, walking away from Bruce to go about his business, leaving him to consider what his next move was.  Bruce realized now as he stood in the middle of the bunker, surrounded by the world of the Batman, the suit feeling heavier than it ever had before that Alfred had made a point, in his usual way, about something that perhaps should have been obvious.

 

He was blaming himself for what happened to Myrna because of a multitude of things.  He had known Cooper was a potential threat to her, that he had managed to avoid a long term stay in prison after coming to the academy, but had been so wrapped up in finding the Kryptonite he hadn't done what he might have to keep Cooper at bay.  Had he not been so focused on his own needs, Myrna might not have even needed a doctor.  He knew he was taking his failure to protect her and Alfred’s subsequent, although feigned, dispassionate response to her being hurt, personally, because of something he had been avoiding thinking on too hard.  

 

It wasn't hard to care for Myrna, she was a woman _worth_ caring for; he had known that the first time they had walked together on Luthor’s grounds.  She was the first woman in a long time that he had wanted to share more with than a bed for a night and a swift goodbye in the morning. He could see something with her that was beyond just the present moment and after a further reflection, he realized that was the problem.  He wanted more with her than he could offer; his priorities in dealing with Superman were not conducive to a true relationship for the two of them.  Although he thoroughly believed he could take Superman on with the Kryptonite, he also knew it likely meant a sacrifice on his part that would leave Myrna without him in the most final way possible and he wasn't willing to put her through that.

 

If they had met at another time, before Metropolis had been attacked, or if they had had longer before he intended to come face to face with Superman, maybe things would be different.  Maybe he would have had the time to explain to her, share with her what he was, who he was and he wouldn't feel the guilt of keeping things from her, or failing her when she needed him most.  He had known that when he had first begun to pursue something with her.  He had argued with himself endlessly about leaving her alone, something about her pulling him in and making him think anything could be possible with her, even when in the back of his mind, he knew that wasn’t the case and he was being unfair to both of them.  It had been selfish of him and he realized that now.  He was pulled out of his self-flagellating  thoughts when he heard Alfred over the intercom wired throughout the house.

 

“Master Wayne.” He said, Bruce walking back to the desk where the control panel allowed him to respond.

 

“Yes, Alfred.”

 

“Dr. Ennis has arrived with a report on Miss Swift’s condition.” He said simply, Bruce nodding and looking down as he remembered he was still in the suit.  Although Ennis had treated Bruce for many of the wounds he had acquired during nights as the Batman and suspected his employer was involved in something a bit more nefarious than the occasional bar fight, he had remained ignorant to what that something more was, both through Bruce’s careful attempts to keep him so and also out of professional courtesy.  As long as he was able to treat him successfully, it didn’t really matter to Dr. Ennis why Bruce Wayne had a bullet, stab or blunt force wound.

 

“I’ll be there in a minute.” Bruce said, walking for the biometrically protected space he kept the suit in and preparing to change.  He would check with Ennis that Myrna was alright and make arrangements to maintain whatever aftercare she might need as she healed, but he couldn’t go to her.  That much was clear, if he did, he would likely change his own mind about staying away from her.  And he couldn’t afford to change his mind about what he needed to do to protect her and everyone else on this planet from Superman.  He hadn’t realized how much that thought pained him until it was here; he had spent enough of his life alone that when the possibility of him being with a woman he truly cared for had arisen, it had made him think far more positively on the future.  He felt that crumbling now as he quickly dressed in normal clothes and walked the stairs to the main floor of the glasshouse, where Alfred and Dr. Ennis waited for him.

 

* * *

 

 

“Mr. Wayne.” Bruce heard as he came through the doorway leading from the bunker into the glasshouse.  He saw Dr. Ennis standing before the fire with Alfred, a drink in hand as they waited for him to join them.

 

“Dr. Ennis, thank you for coming out.” He said as he walked toward the two men, hand outstretched to shake Ennis’.  Dr. Ennis smiled as he took Bruce’s hand and shook it firmly with his free one.

 

“Of course, Mr. Wayne.  I knew it had to be rather important for you to call me at such a late hour, happy to do my part.” He said, Bruce nodding and thanking Alfred as he was handed his own drink to join them.

 

“So,” he said as he walked over to the couch and sat, crossing his legs and taking a sip of his drink, “how is she?” he asked.  He was trying to make it seem like he wasn’t that worried, the last thing he needed was to add to the speculation of her importance to him and if he was being honest, which he was loathe to be, try to help him come to terms with what he had decided before coming up from the bunker.  Dr. Ennis smiled and set his drink down on a small table near where he stood.

 

“She’s going to be fine, sir.  She has some healing to do, but considering the attack you described to me, she fared well.” He responded, Bruce feeling relief flood through him as he listened to the young doctor ahead of him.  When he had left Myrna, which he hadn’t wanted to do but had to out of necessity, she had looked as though she was near death, her mouth bleeding profusely and her face looking painful after the onslaught it had received from the bastard now sitting in jail for his troubles.

“So you were able to treat her?” He asked, clarifying that Ennis felt she was going to need further care.

 

“Many of her facial contusions, though they look terrible and will likely feel terrible for a few days, were superficial.  My initial examination showed no obvious signs of neurological damage or serious injury.  Though, if she tells you she’s not feeling well, I would suggest she go to see a specialist able to do more thorough testing… She had a small gash on her head that required stitches--” He added, Bruce looking at him with concern that she had any wound that would require that kind of treatment, but raised a hand to reassure his employer it wasn’t as bad as it sounded.

 

“It only required three and it should be healed quickly-- I left her with my information so we could meet to remove them.” Bruce allowing himself to relax as he recognized the expertise his doctor had; he wouldn’t have entrusted Myrna’s care to him, much less his own if he wasn’t sure he was capable.  He had known Aidan Ennis for the last three years, the young man the son of his long time doctor, Lucas Ennis.  Lucas had worked with Alfred in the British SAS and trusted him implicitly, making the decision to use him as his personal physician an easy one.  When he had chosen to retire, he had suggested his son take his place, the young man a near carbon copy of his father, working in the SAS for a time after completing medical school and then becoming physician to Bruce Wayne as his father had before him.  It seemed a common thing, for families to become loyal to the Wayne family name, even if there was only one at the moment.  Despite being a younger man, Bruce trusted Aidan with his own health and was grateful that he was not only willing to rush to the aid of a woman he didn’t know at ungodly hours of the night, but also follow up with his employer on her care.  Even if perhaps that broke a privacy law or five, if one thought about it for too long.  Bruce finished his drink with one quick draw, setting the glass down as he stood back up, reaching his hand out again.

 

“Well, Ennis, you’re a credit to your profession.” He said as Aidan shook his hand again.

 

“Thank you, sir.”

 

“I appreciate you taking my call at such a ridiculous hour and going to Myrna’s aid when she needed it.” He added, Aidan nodding his head in thanks for the high praise from Bruce Wayne.  It wasn’t given freely, not because Bruce didn’t recognize when someone was doing their work well, he had just gotten used to it being expected, given the kind of position he was in.

 

“Of course, Mr. Wayne-- as I said, happy to do it.  Though, I’ll admit, it was a bit bracing to meet two young women with such spirited attitudes.” He said, Bruce giving him a questioning look, the doctor giving him a small smile in response.

 

“Ah, I know you wanted me to keep your involvement in me coming to treat Miss Swift under wraps, Mr. Wayne-- however, I don’t know that either of them believed me when I told them I worked for the city…” He said, Bruce responding with a half smile; he wasn’t panicking that she might have realized it was him, it was hardly difficult to assume a personal physician showing up on your doorstep was there for reasons beyond what the city could offer and neither of the women Ennis would have faced were fools.  Since he wasn’t going to intrude on Myrna’s life after tonight, he didn’t expect to have to come up with a reason for it either.

 

“Well, it was a long shot, Ennis.  Thank you for trying though.” He said as he walked the man to his door so he might get home before the sun completely rose.

 

“Any time, Mr. Wayne.  Though, might I say, Miss Swift seems to be a very impressive woman-- I can see why you were concerned for her well-being.” He said, complimentary of Bruce’s choice in women, not knowing that Myrna was an outlier.  Bruce smiled again as he opened the door for the doctor.

 

“That she is, doctor-- She is a very impressive woman.” He responded, Ennis turning to look at his employer with a conspiratorial look on his face.

 

“She keeps particularly lovely friends too.” He said, Bruce realizing he must be referring to Penni.  Dr. Ennis wasn’t prone to sharing that kind of thing with Bruce, which made him wonder just what had happened during his time with the two of them, they must have given him a run for his money.

 

“Ah, Penni, yes I’ve met her many times-- I’d be careful, Aidan, she seems to be a spitfire.” He said, the young man hardly able to contain the twinkle in his eye that he was aware and completely onboard with that fact.  

 

“I had no doubt of it.” He said, the two men chuckling as they shook hands once more and Dr. Ennis made his way to his car, heading for him.  As soon as Ennis had left the house, his face settled back into one of stoicism, working to remind himself that he had a mission now.  He turned back into the house to find Alfred watching him from across the living room, freshly filled drink in hand.  He could see he was being regarded with a look that he knew well from Alfred, that the older man knew something was changed.

 

“The report from Dr. Ennis is promising.” He said quietly, taking a slow sip from his glass.  Bruce nodded, heading toward the section of house that housed his bed. Even he was exhausted after the events of the night and found he was more than physically spent, his mind needing rest too. Alfred, it seemed, had plenty more to confront Bruce about.

 

“I take it from your lackluster response, you've thought more on what we discussed earlier.” He said, Bruce letting out an annoyed snort and turning back to face his friend and mentor.

 

“Given your own lackluster response, I would think you'd know that's the theme for tonight.” He said, Alfred maintaining his own placid look.

 

“Master Wayne, I have known since you were a very young man-- I have seen you soldier on through some of the most difficult situations anyone ever had to-- so it isn't difficult for me to tell when you've made a decision on something.” He said, Bruce’s eyes trailing to the fire just behind Alfred, not wanting to meet his gaze.

 

“You're always at an advantage with me, Alfred. Seems I can't hide anything from you.” He responded, Alfred nodding in agreement.

 

“Yes and the sooner you accept that as fact, the easier it will be for you to understand me when I say, don't be a fool.” He said, his words making it impossible for Bruce not to look at him again.

 

“What makes you think I'm being a fool?”

 

“Because I know you took what I said about realizing what made Miss Swift’s incident so upsetting to you as a reason to turn away from her. That would be a mistake.” He said, Bruce taking a deep breath, wondering why Alfred had the gift of being all knowing when it came to his life, personal or otherwise.

 

“Alfred, if you know so well what I've been thinking, then you know why I have to do this… Why I have to keep myself at a distance.” He said, Alfred shaking his head, eyes kind but serious behind his tortoise shell glasses.

 

“Excuses, Master Wayne-- That's all those are.” He said with an assured tone, Bruce shaking his own head in disbelief.

 

“It's not an excuse to want to protect someone you care for from the things you do in life, my life as the Batman, I realize now that's something I can't burden her with.”

 

“Are you really afraid of her not being able to handle the Batman, or are you afraid that perhaps your decisions as the Batman in the coming days would end up leaving her deprived of _Bruce Wayne_?” He asked pointedly, Bruce feeling his chest get tight as Alfred hit the nail on the head. He didn't appreciate being lectured about something he felt as strongly about as this.

 

“Alfred, I appreciate that you care about this situation… But after this evening, if I hear another word about Myrna Swift, it will not leave us on good terms.” He said, no ill will intended toward Alfred, but he was beyond the point of no return on this.  He had to draw a line, he had to separate himself from that which he was realizing mattered to him more than he’d like to admit, in order to protect the greater good.  There was far too much at stake for him to forget that now and even though he would be letting Myrna down by pulling away from her now, at least she would be safe and free to find someone far more worthy than him.  He left Alfred to his thoughts in the living room, walking to his bedroom to toss and turn, as he usually did, though this time it would be because he was dreaming of a future he wouldn’t be having and it would haunt him.  Alfred watched his charge as he walked away, his shoulders hunched to fend off anymore commentary from him, even if Alfred wanted nothing more than to lose his own generally calm demeanor to yell that he hadn’t raised a fool and every step he took away from a life he deserved was proving that foolishness; but he knew it would only create a rift between them, Bruce becoming unmovable when he had made a decision.

 

“I would risk a great many things, if I knew it would lead to your happiness.  I only wish you would too.” He said softly, knowing Bruce couldn’t hear him.


	9. Bumps, Bruises and Bruce Wayne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a fitful sleep, Myrna is awake and considering things she never thought she'd have to. Namely, that the man she's been falling for is secretly (or not so secretly now) Batman... Does she confront him about what she knows or pretend she's ignorant he's the caped crusader? Is she risking everything they might have by even considering it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An admittedly short chapter, but I wanted them both to have their chance to think about what's happening, even if it's for different reasons-- Thanks for reading and hang with me!

Myrna slept until almost noon, falling into a fitful sleep in the 4am range, dreams full of bats and Bruce Wayne.  When she finally woke, she wasn’t sure if she had managed to rest at all or if she had just kept her eyes shut for seven hours straight.  Her parents had left earlier in the morning, not wanting to wake her and Penni, leaving a note for either to call if Myrna was feeling out of sorts or if they needed help with anything.  For the first time since they had lived together, Myrna was awake before her friend, quietly opening Penni’s bedroom door to see her curled up contentedly in her bed, not even stirring.  She smiled that meeting her doctor had apparently quieted her enough to sleep well past when she normally would.  She took a detour to the bathroom, peering at herself in the mirror to see the final total of the damage from last night. She winced as she saw herself in the mirror for the first time since she'd been home. Although she was pleased to see that quite a lot of the swelling had gone down as she had slept, the left side of her face was still a few shades more purple than normal and gentle exploration showed it was definitely still tender. Her lip, though the split wasn't bleeding anymore still felt tight and sore if she smiled.

 

“Well, I guess my modeling days are on hold.” She joked, realizing as she looked at herself in the mirror that her hair was greasy and probably bloody from the gash on her head and no doubt she smelled after a night of adrenaline and a sound beating from a drunk lunatic. She was glad if this was going to happen, it happened over a weekend so she'd have a chance to heal and maybe not terrify the kids when they saw her at school again. She’d have to come up with a story to tell them. Like she got into a bar fight with a bear or something equally fantastic. Thankfully she had time to think on it. As she finished inspecting the damage and swallowed some Tylenol to counteract the already pounding headache that threatened to emerge full force if left unchecked, her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn't eaten in hours. Now it was a battle between forgoing a shower to eat first or forgoing eating to shower first.  

 

In this instance, not being able to stand greasy hair for one more moment won out against food. She swung the handle on the shower to on and waited patiently for hot water to make an appearance.  Aside from the physical cleansing showers provided, it was amazing how frequently one could organize their thoughts while in one.  She allowed herself that opportunity once she scrubbed the grime of the night before off, finding new bruises as she did, despite the care she was taking not to rough herself up again. Washing her hair took even more effort, as the three seemingly innocuous stitches hidden under it protested being irritated.  It seemed like it took forever to get through her routine but her sore body didn't mind as the hot water warmed and soothed her sores and gave her enough relief to relax for a bit, her mind given the opportunity to think back on what had happened in the last few days.  Settling into the tub, water beating down on her, she thought about the night before, she had survived something that could have easily been the end of her, the look in Martin Cooper’s eyes when he had slammed her into the wall and hit her had been enough to tell her he had been fully prepared to kill her for what he perceived as her transgressions.  He had the look of someone who had nothing left to lose and a very skewed opinion on why he didn’t.

 

She was not a woman who scared easily, but to say she hadn’t been terrified being so close to losing much more than a face clear of bruises wouldn’t be true, which brought her back to why she wasn’t dead.  She would credit herself for offering an elbow to the gut and a halfway effective pepper spray to the face, but she knew the real reason she was alive was because someone had come to her rescue, for which she was beyond grateful; but knowing now that she had been rescued by a man she had been working to start a relationship with, who apparently had also been a masked vigilante in Gotham for the last twenty years was a lot to accept.

 

What did one do when they were in this situation?  It wasn’t like there were self-help books that illustrated how to work your way through learning someone you cared for was in fact, a man who dressed as a bat and brought criminals to their rightly deserved justice, even if he did so in a way that wasn’t always legal.  He had done many good things for this city as both the Batman and as Bruce Wayne, _that_ certainly wasn’t disputable and she would be lying if she said she didn’t find it a little-- ok, perhaps _a lot_ exciting that by night he was protecting the city as it slept.  From a purely primitive side of her brain, it actually made him all the more attractive to her.

 

On the other hand the Batman, Bruce, had been in the news for branding men who more often than not ended up dead in prison.  She couldn't say she felt entirely remorseful as many were human traffickers, dealers, abusers and otherwise worthless to humanity, that much was easily seen.   However, she did believe in the law and people being tried justly; innocent until proven guilty.   Although she had no doubt Bruce could easily prove someone was guilty as sin by the time he got to them, he seemed thorough and had been the Batman long enough, she could assume he knew very well what he was doing; but it was also a fairly recent development that he branded them and sent them on their way.   Something had happened to make him dole out a punishment like that and all she could do was wonder what it was to make him angry enough to do something so cruel to another human being; tagging them like wild animals and if it was something she could even help soothe by being with him.

 

Would he _want_ that from her anyway?

 

She had checked her phone almost religiously since she had woken up, not sure if she should be disappointed or unsurprised to find she had no messages. Aside from sending Dr. Ennis to check on her, there had been no attempt from him that she was aware of to see her at all.  She didn't want to admit that it did upset her to find things had become silent overnight. He knew what had happened to her last night:  he had been there for crying out loud! She didn't doubt he had gotten a report from Ennis after he had  treated her,  so she wondered if he felt he had done his due diligence with her and now there was nothing more to say.   Myrna  rubbed her hands on her face, in an effort to calm her mind down for a moment.   She had to remind herself that she was owed nothing from Bruce Wayne. They may have shared a connection before,  but he was not beholden to her and she needed to consider things carefully before she went off the deep end.   So she made herself think like a teacher who was talking to a child about their problem:

 

Did she have a problem with Bruce being the Batman?

 

_Yes._

 

Was her problem with him being the Batman or was it a general concern for his safety?

 

_Both._

 

Could she be with him knowing who he was?

 

_Yes._

 

Was the fear she was feeling now because of him being the Batman, or because she feared losing him for knowing he was the Batman?

 

_The fear of losing him for knowing._

 

What was she going to do now?

 

_Face it like a big girl and either Bruce Wayne would accept her knowing, or he would not and the last three days would be nothing but a memory._

 

She didn’t want that to be the case, of course, but she feared setting herself up for failure.  Bruce wasn’t a man who liked to be cornered; in fact, she could bet the number of times he had been on one hand.  He wouldn’t be successful at what he did  if he allowed it to happen frequently.  She could respect that, as she felt similarly-- though a very easy case could be made they went about it differently.  She suspected that’s why they were a good match and she couldn’t help but feel he suspected that too, which is why it utterly flummoxed her that this was a conversation she was having with herself.  Why else would he have bothered seeing her at all, saving her life and sending a doctor to care for her if there was nothing about her that was worth it to him?  She realized as she considered this that the water had begun to go cold and it was time for her to move on, her day was already half gone and there was still more to accomplish than exhausting herself with an internal conversation that wasn’t going to help her get the answers she needed.  Standing up and turning the water off, she stepped carefully out of the shower to dry off and get ready.

* * *

 

When she came downstairs after getting dressed, she found Penni sitting at the kitchen table, eating a late lunch and scrolling through social media on her phone.  Remembering she still hadn’t eaten, Myrna made a bee-line for the large bowl of fruit on the kitchen counter, grabbing an apple and taking a bite, the crunching sound she produced stirring Penni from her focus on her phone.  Her friend did a double take as she realized Myrna was in the kitchen and dressed.  She looked around the room and down to herself still in lounge pants and a tank top, dark hair piled unceremoniously on her head.

 

“Is someone here?  Are the police re-interviewing you?  Should I be in real clothes?” She shot off, a slightly panicked look on her face.  Myrna laughed and shook her head no, though sorely tempted to say yes, just to see what would happen.  Penni immediately relaxed, the panic on her face subsiding as she was reassured their house was not being invaded by anyone who would care she didn’t have a bra on.  She was still questioning though, as she realized her friend was very well dressed for the kind of day she had been expecting.

 

“Why are you dressed up?” She asked suspiciously, Myrna not sure how to respond.  As much as she wanted to tell Penni what she had found out about Bruce, she knew she couldn’t.  She didn’t feel good about withholding things from her best friend, someone she confided in about everything and trusted a great deal; but she realized there was still a small chance she was wrong about Bruce being the Batman and the last thing she needed was to manage to prove herself wrong and make a fool out of herself in front of two people she cared about.  However, there was also a very significant chance she was right about Bruce being the Batman-- in which case, it hadn’t been her secret to find out, much less tell.  It seemed today was a day she couldn’t have it all.

 

“It’s just a dress and leggings… I wear that all the time.” She said, hoping to deflect this conversation but knowing it was unlikely.  She was right as Penni looked at her unconvinced.

 

“First of all, it’s a dress and leggings on a Saturday, after getting your head cracked open by a crazy person and have no reason to be in anything but pajama pants for the next 48 hours at least.  Secondly, we both know that’s one of your favorites because it shows off your figure...” She said, eyes squinting as she looked more closely at Myrna.  “Are you wearing makeup?!” She squeaked, Myrna rolling her eyes and continuing to eat her apple.  So much for deflecting the conversation.  Penni sat back in her chair, crossing her arms and putting on what could only be described as her detective face; it was usually reserved for these moments, when Myrna wasn’t being forthcoming.

 

“Maybe I just feel like wearing clothes and am sick of looking like an eggplant on one side of my face, why is that such a shocker?” Myrna said, Penni shaking her head and still regarding her friend with skepticism.

 

“Well then, if that’s how you’re going to play it… If you don’t have to follow up on your report, no one is coming here, you’re making an effort to look human even though you're allowed not to for a minute because you were hurt and you're wearing a dress that screams ‘honey, I could be yours if you ask real nice’-- Oh my God… You're going to see Bruce!” She said, cackling with glee as Myrna took another bite of apple looked away, dead giveaway that Penni had called it.

 

“You dog!” Penni said laughing as she picked up her plate and walked it to the sink, Myrna shrugging her shoulders. Better for Penni to think she was looking to impress rather than confront, since she wouldn’t know how to explain what she was confronting him about anyway.  Penni rinsed off her plate before she stuck it in the dishwasher, still thinking out loud.

 

“Are you going to thank him for sending Dr. Dreamy-- I mean, Dr. Ennis to take care of you?” She asked, Myrna looking at her friend but not answering.  Penni wasn’t an idiot, Ennis’ explanation for showing up on their doorstep in the wee hours of the morning was weak at best anyway.  “I’m not complaining,” Penni continued, apparently content to keep talking with little to no response from Myrna, likely because that was a frequent occurrence in this house. “But, I do wonder how he knew you needed a doctor.” She said, Myrna’s shoulders tightening uncomfortably at the thought that Penni was starting to wander into territory she had inadvertently been tossed into.

 

“I don’t know, he’s probably friends with the police commissioner…” She mumbled, trying to sound more nonchalant and less conspicuous and probably failing at both, Penni considering what she was saying far too long until internally panicking that the conversation would keep going, let out a cough and tossed the core of her apple into the trash.  “Speaking of Dr. Dreamy…  How long did you wait before you got ahold of him to set up a dinner date?” She asked, desperately trying to keep the conversation from derailing.  Penni as she clicked the dishwasher door shut with her hip.

 

“Girl, I might be a flirt, but I ain’t no hoe…” She started Myrna shaking her her head and interrupting.

 

“So you’re meeting him tonight?” she said, Penni quieting for a second as her friend called it.

 

“It’s eerie how well you know me.” She said, Myrna laughing, mentally sighing with relief as the focus was no longer on what was going on with her.  

 

“Wouldn’t be much of a friend if I didn’t.” She said as she straightened her dress, Penni letting out a snort.

 

“That’s true… Though at this point we can never break up: you know too many of my secrets.” She said, Myrna nodding in agreement. Though, at the moment, there was at least one she didn’t know, her guilt of hiding things from Penni hitting her again.  This is why she’d happily not had a life, no disappointments, no guilt, no secrets… But then again, there would be no Bruce and that was something that was beginning to be unacceptable to her.  Batman and all.

 

She dodged a few more of Penni’s questions about Bruce and what her plans were with him for the evening, managing to get her back to talking about her own plans with Dr. Ennis and what she was planning on wearing to stun the socks off him.  Myrna was excited her best friend was going to have an evening for herself for a change, and with a man who seemed very kind. Plus, from the goofy look on her face, which had been there since they started talking about him, Penni was pretty thrilled about it too.  She was finally able to pry herself free when Penni realized how close she was to her dinner date with Aidan and shot up the stairs to her room to get ready, leaving Myrna the opportunity to slip away after yelling to her friend to let her know how everything went when she got home.  She slid behind the wheel of her car, her stomach flip-flopping as she thought about what she was planning on doing.  The silence from the Wayne side of this quickly souring relationship had started to make her doubt if it was worth her showing up on his doorstep and making fantastical claims about his secret identity, but she steeled herself and her resolve, turning the key in the ignition and heading back toward the glasshouse, the way still fresh in her memory from her evening with him.

 

She was on her way-- to confront Bruce Wayne… To confront the Batman.


	10. Excuse me, Mr Wayne-- Are You Batman?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myrna finds herself at the glasshouse, waiting for an absent Bruce to return. Bruce finds himself casing LexCorp for the Kryptonite's location, but he knows he's throwing himself into his work to keep from forgetting why he can't continue to see her. Too bad the bat's out of the bag now.

If not for the fact the house was made of glass and he could see who it was before he even opened the door, Alfred would have been surprised to see Myrna standing on the doorstep.  Or perhaps he wasn’t surprised, as he had felt from the very beginning that the young woman was a cut above the rest of those who had come before her, far more discerning of how Bruce Wayne operated than even the younger man thought.  It pained him to see, that despite a very good job of covering it with make up, her face was as badly bruised as he suspected, her lower lip still a bit swollen from it being split during her assault.  He had understood before seeing her why Bruce had nearly ripped her attacker’s head off, now that she was in front of him, he wasn’t unopposed to Bruce “accidentally” running into the cretin in future… Multiple times… With a baseball bat.

 

“Miss Myrna,” he said, noting that the young woman seemed nervous but oddly resolved as she stood before him, “I didn’t expect to see you today.” That much was true, though he HAD expected to see her again at some point; for all his grumbling about Alfred keeping his thoughts about Myrna to himself, Master Wayne had not slept at all after Dr. Ennis had left from giving his report on her condition.  Alfred had not been surprised to discover that Bruce had left the glasshouse sometime shortly after that meeting, his bed left untouched and not a single word had been spoken to him about where he was heading or if he was interested in being reached.  He surmised, knowing Bruce as well as he did, that the younger man had elected to focus on that which he felt was keeping him from Myrna, trying to push the thought of her out or he might actually realize there was something there that mattered more than that blasted Kryptonite.  It seemed though, that something had pushed Myrna to action and it was certainly satisfying to Alfred to know he wasn’t as oblivious as Bruce liked to think.  Myrna gave a smile, hoping it looked normal and not terrified like she felt.

 

“I know, Alfred and I’m sorry to show up unannounced-- but…” She found herself tripping over her words trying to figure out how to explain herself without just blurting out that she knew his employer was Batman; also avoiding sounding like a five year old asking if little Billy Bob could come out to play wouldn’t hurt either.  Alfred could see from the look on her face that something had occurred to her, he didn’t want to guess what had occurred to her, but he suspected Bruce might not have counted on her being less loose in morals as he was accustomed to and far more endowed with critical thinking skills.  Alfred opened the door wider and stood back, inviting her in.

 

“Master Wayne had to step out to take care of a few things, but I expect he will be home soon enough, if you’d like to wait.” He said, having no doubt she would wait even though her expression said she was concerned she was imposing.  It must be important then, as she had not struck him as a woman who would waste her time if it weren’t-- another reason he had come to like her.  Although she felt entirely awkward, Alfred graciously walked her in and directed her to have a seat on the couch by the fire.  It was hard to believe just a few short days ago she had been happily held in the arms of a man she wanted to care for very deeply; now it just felt strange, perhaps because once again she was out of control of the situation and didn’t know where she stood with Bruce.  Everything was on a precipice now and just a breath of the wind going in the wrong direction could make everything fall apart before it had even had a chance to really start.

 

“Would you care for a drink, Miss Myrna?” Alfred asked her kindly, Myrna shaking her head.

 

“Oh, no, thank you, I’m fine.” She answered, rubbing her hands on her legging covered thighs, the toes of her boots tapping quietly on the floor.  Maybe it was out of an attempt to feel like she had a grip on the situation or maybe just a strange thought process that it was a bad idea to accept anything and act like she belonged here when she'd come unexpectedly and she wasn't that confident that she was welcome.  Alfred gave an understanding nod and walked over to where several decanters sat, pulling up a glass for himself.

 

"You’ll excuse me if I take one.” He said with a coarse laugh as he poured an amber liquid, though Myrna wasn’t knowledgeable enough about alcohol to know what it was.  It was enough to remind her of her grandfather, who had enjoyed a glass of whiskey and a dry wit; something that must have been a character trait requirement for British SAS as an almost carbon copy of her grandfather took a seat directly across from her, crossing his legs as he took sip from his glass.  After a moment of silence, Myrna couldn’t help but speak up.

 

“I’m not keeping you am I?” She asked, Alfred readily shaking his head no.

 

“No, Miss Myrna, you are not-- Master Wayne is so rarely home, it seems any of the other staff are in and out the door rather quickly.  Leaves me plenty of time to myself to keep busy-- or imbibe some of the finer things.” He said, lifting his glass to make his point.  She gave him an amused smile, though Myrna wasn’t sure he wasn’t just being kind.  As they went quiet again, Myrna found herself looking around the house, searching for something to focus on, finally standing and walking to the window she had looked out before, only this time in early evening, rather than dark of night, it gave her a chance to see what she hadn’t before.

 

“It’s beautiful out here.” She said, looking out across the lake again, the fall colors of the deciduous trees that were interspersed with the dark green of the pines of the woods beyond the house reflecting prettily on it.  From his seat, Alfred nodded in agreement, looking out across the land that had been in the Wayne family for a very long time and that he himself had lived on for a very long time too.

 

“It is.  I have always found it very peaceful here, far enough from distraction and the pressures of the day.” He said, Myrna enjoying that thought.  She had always wanted to live on a piece of land that didn’t have neighbors for miles, but a budget and the logic of living near her work had won out when she moved to Gotham.  In fact, she hadn’t even thought land like this existed, so the thought hadn’t really crossed her mind.

 

“Sounds lovely…” She said quietly.   She was almost startled when she saw Alfred’s reflection in the glass as he walked up beside her, drink still in hand.  She looked at him as he settled beside her.

 

“I did wonder, the last time I was here, why Bruce had never rebuilt Wayne Manor?” she asked, comfortable enough that that wasn’t too personal a question, but maybe would give her insight.  Alfred took another sip of his drink, pondering his response.

 

“Master Wayne is a man plagued by memories, Miss Myrna-- the manor one of the biggest of all.  I think he was almost relieved when it burnt down... “ He said quietly, Myrna understanding what he meant.  Sometimes things had to be cleansed by fire to move forward and grow again, as an outsider she didn’t know what it really felt like for Bruce to have once lived in that great stone building as a child with parents, only to grow up in it without them.  She supposed she would want it to have burned down too if she thought about it.

 

“I can understand that,” she began, looking out across the lake in the direction of the manor, “a child growing up without their parents, it’s one of the biggest heartbreaks I see in my work.”

 

“I have no doubt you see a great many heartbreaks in your work, Miss Myrna.” He said, Myrna turning to look at him again.

 

“Is that why you stayed with him, after all this time?  To be his family?” she asked pointedly, feeling bolder, feeling as though between Alfred and Bruce, Alfred might actually tell her the truth.  Alfred smiled at her boldness, not at all offended, he had hoped there would be someone, a woman, that would want to know about Bruce.  And having run the appropriate background checks on her, he knew it wasn’t because she was a reporter for a rubbish tabloid looking for stories.

 

“I was named as his legal guardian by his father, when he was born, were anything to happen to he and Mistress Wayne… It was an honor that he would entrust his son to me, though I never thought the day would come that I would outlive them… Once Bruce became a man, I suppose I could have said I had done my duty to his mother and father; but as I think you’ve started to learn Miss Myrna, Master Wayne is not a man who often thinks he needs anyone.  I blame myself for imparting that on him, it was a mistake I made as a young man and I fear he learned that needing someone was a weakness.” He said, Myrna tipping her head in a way that indicated she didn't believe that.

 

“I can't believe that's the case, Alfred.” She said, the older man giving a small shrug of his shoulders, she might not believe it, but there was a certain truth to it. He had lived his life much like Bruce did now. It was why it had become second nature to him to point out that Bruce hadn't settled down whenever there was an opportunity to. He didn't want it to become too late for Bruce to have something beyond the Batman and his fight to protect Gotham and now apparently the world.

 

“As my charge, I did the best I could, but I take responsibility for many things, including this, Miss Myrna.” He said, there was a finality to his tone, Myrna elected not to push her luck in getting him to talk to her.  He and Bruce shared that trait of remaining closed off and under motivated to share.

 

“Well if it means anything, I think Bruce is a better man for having you.” She said with a smile, a genuine look of surprise and gratitude flashing across Alfred's face at her kindness. Although he had never suffered the world for fools or flattery, never needing either of them to do what needed to be done, raising Bruce had been no exception, but he had felt on occasion the pressures of raising a child, especially one that was not his own by blood.  He realized hearing someone felt he had done well was reassuring to him, and only solidified how he felt about Bruce.

 

“Thank you, Miss Myrna.” He said, though the moment was broken when Alfred’s pocket began to buzz and he realized he was receiving a call. Excusing himself, he pulled the phone from his pocket, taking the call away from where Myrna stood. She wasn't interested in eavesdropping anyway, so she waved to Alfred, doing her best to indicate she would go for a walk before slipping outside. The chill bit at her face and the tall, dried grasses surrounding the glasshouse and all the out buildings she could see on the property, pulled at her coat and cracked as it was forced down by her feet.  Walking the grounds she found helped her keep her head clear, breathing in deep breaths of cold air kept her sharp as she considered what might happen if Bruce actually came home tonight.  As she continued on she found a well worn path that led through the line of trees between the glasshouse and the remains of Wayne Manor.  The path made her trek easier, not having to fight the field of grass surrounding her and the walk through the trees was lit by the setting sun pushing its way through the dried leaves and needles hanging from their branches.

 

After a few minutes of walking, she reached a small clearing, filled with similar grasses and wildflowers as before, seeing the tops of headstones, she realized she must have found the Wayne family cemetery, a glance at the stones that weren’t overrun confirmed she was surrounded by a few generations of Waynes, which sounded stranger than it looked.  It was quiet and peaceful, as one would expect a cemetery to be.  Looking up she saw tucked just to the back of the cemetery along the edge of the wooded area behind it, was a mausoleum, the door ajar; walking toward it she could just begin to see the writing carved into the stone fronts of the tombs there and realized it said 1981.  Three years before she was born, she realized now she had found the final resting place of Bruce’s parents.  She didn’t know why she was moved to do it, but she looked around, finding a patch of pretty wildflowers, picking them carefully until she had a small bunch in her hand.  She walked to the mausoleum, stepping through the doorway, not surprised to find it was dark save for the light coming through the doorway and filtering through a stained glass window built into the wall.  She walked across the stone floor to the marble tombs, carefully removing the dried out remains of the last bouquet of flowers there and replacing them with the fresh ones she had picked.  She took a moment to look at the marble plaques denoting Thomas and Martha Wayne, Bruce’s parents, laid to rest in this spot 35 years ago.  She felt a great sadness for them, which might seem odd, considering Bruce had had to live a life without them, but she was sad that they weren’t here to see the man their son had become.  She might disagree with how he went about doing some of what he did, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a part of her that wasn’t understanding about the rest of it.  

 

They had died through another person’s lack of lack of conscience, Bruce having lived through that, it wasn’t all that surprising he had turned out as he had, doing what he did.  As she laid her hands respectfully against the cold marble fronts of the tombs, fingers brushing the carved outlines of their names, Myrna didn’t realize she was being watched, though even if she had, she wouldn’t have let it stop her from paying her respects.

 

* * *

 

After Dr. Ennis had left the glasshouse and Bruce had warned Alfred he did not want to hear anymore about Myrna Swift, he had taken to his room to brood and discovered it wasn’t going well in not thinking about his decision about her and by then the sun had already started rising and sleep was merely a well ignored suggestion.  Since he didn’t have the cover of darkness to take his frustrations out on the criminal low-lifes of the city, he’d have to find something else to focus on, and what better than the LexCorp research park where the Kryptonite had been taken after Superman had interrupted his attempts to take it.  It had been quiet, early in the morning as Bruce worked on determining what kind of security Lex Luthor provided his company and where exactly he was keeping the Kryptonite.  He had brought a device that could detect the radiation the mineral produced, which showed him, the Kryptonite was not within easy reach, but deep in a lab surrounded by security guards and technology.  From what he could see of the guards outside the building, they appeared to be run of the mill rent a cops, but the amount of power LexCorp was drawing into the building told him there was a security system rigged in the building that made those rent a cops far more formidable.  Bruce diligently made note of all of his options as he sat at a safe distance in his car.  Perhaps on Monday he would have his secretary, Grace, try to set up an appointment with Luthor to give him access to the inside of LexCorp.

 

He was in no rush to get back to the glasshouse, where he knew an irritated Alfred was likely waiting for him to return home.  It appeared every plan had not gone as he’d hoped it would, which only added to his mood.  Superman was a threat, that much was clear two years ago; now it seemed that every day, there was a new story about something the alien had been involved with, only pushing Bruce further into the belief something had to be done before he did something humankind could never recover from; before he burned everything and everyone Bruce cared about to the ground.  Which inevitably led him back to think about Myrna, the very last person he wanted to think of _because_ thinking of her would make him question what he was doing and he didn’t _want_ to question what he was doing.  Too much was at stake for that.  He may have decided for the both of them because he knew that was the only way to keep her safe.  He also knew that was the lie he was telling to keep himself from arguing that point;  something about Myrna made him feel like any risk was worth it just to be with her and that she had a strength that would keep her from running if she knew, really knew, what and who he was.

 

After hours in Metropolis scouting LexCorp, he found himself driving through the city aimlessly, remembering in great detail the destruction that had been wrought here; the great white dome that covered the remains of the Kryptonian vessel a stark reminder that even now the invasion and subsequent attack two years ago still had a hold on the city.  Crossing the harbor bridge, he returned to Gotham full of the reminders of duty and justice that had led him to this point.  In the early evening, the sun began to wane and before too long he realized he had driven back to the spot where Myrna had been attacked.  He realized he took it as a great personal failure that she had ever been touched by Martin Cooper. He often felt responsible for things that, under scrutiny, could easily be proven to have been unavoidable no matter what Bruce did. This however, he knew wouldn't stand that scrutiny: he had known about Cooper, seen how he had treated Myrna and he had been so focused on his mission to right the wrongs of Superman that he hadn't righted the wrongs of Martin Cooper.  As he relived the night over and over in his head, a flash of light caught his eye, the setting sun catching on something laying in the alley. At first he thought it was nothing more than litter, leftovers from the dumpsters that lined the alley. Upon closer inspection, however, he realized it was far more than litter, leaning down he picked the shining thing off the ground, realizing as soon as his fingers closed over it what it was.

 

As he straightened, he opened his hand and looked down at the silver filigree dragonfly barrette. The hinged clip was broken, no doubt from when Myrna’s head had hit the brick wall, likely the reason for her three stitches, the wing of the dragonfly, bent at a sad angle after the brutal assault, had survived, just like its owner. He thought for a moment about taking it to Myrna, her house only a short walk from here. He knew it was important to her, as she had worn it in some fashion every time he had seen her, but he knew it would be a bad idea. Aside from having to explain his reasons for being where she had been attacked to find it for her, he would have to face her and he had already decided he couldn't do that. Superman was a threat and that threat needed to be eliminated; it had to be by him because he had the will to do what needed to be done and soon he would have the means.  This had all been settled in his mind for a long time, the seed planted two years ago, slowly growing to this moment; but that had also been before Myrna.  Now he was questioning everything and it wouldn’t do him any favors if he went to her now, because he’d realize what was within his grasp.  He closed his fingers over the clip, the outline of the dragonfly biting into the palm of his hand.  He’d have it repaired for her and returned, by someone else, of course.  

 

He didn’t like the thought of being so cold to her. For a moment, he had seen possibilities and it had given him a spark of hope he hadn’t had in years. She didn’t deserve that kind of treatment after gifting him such a thing; but hope was a tall order for a man like him, and it had come at a terrible time.  He was drawn out of his self imposed exile as his phone notified him of a message. Letting out an annoyed  sigh, Bruce slipped the broken clip into his pocket, fishing the phone out of his jacket.  Looking at the screen he saw it was a text from Alfred, it was short and to the point, as was Alfred’s style, telling him it would be a good idea for him to come back to the glasshouse.  He assumed it had to do with the upgrades Alfred had been completing for his suit, the older man preferring to walk Bruce through all of the alterations he had made before he used the equipment,  so nothing was amiss in the field.  Just another reminder of everything that would be happening soon.  

 

Driving back to the glasshouse, he felt his body tense as he realized there was a familiar car sitting in the drive beside the house.  He pulled in beside it, getting out of his car, seeing Alfred standing in the living room of the house, waiting to catch Bruce’s eye.  He saw as Alfred nodded his head in the direction of the manor, Bruce looking toward the horizon where his unexpected guest was waiting.  He followed the path that led that way, his legs walking it by memory, having come this way many times on his own.  His mind raced as he fought with himself about what was going to happen next when he saw her.  At first he was angry with Alfred for not sending her away; after their conversation last night, he knew that Bruce was determined to follow through with his mission with Superman, and he even let himself entertain the thought that perhaps Alfred had even invited her here himself, a last ditch attempt to get Bruce to finally set aside the Batman and start the life Alfred was always nagging him to have.  It was a short-lived anger as he knew very well that Alfred was not a passive aggressive man, nor was he the type to play games.  He might disagree with Bruce about his future and how Myrna fit into it, but he would not blatantly disrespect Bruce’s wishes about her.  No, Myrna had come here of her own accord; he suspected he had been obvious when he sent Dr. Ennis to tend to her and although he argued with himself he had done nothing to give himself away to her after intervening with Cooper, he knew that hadn’t been entirely true-- the fact she had gotten him to stop and walk away despite every fiber in his being wanting to brand the despicable man, that he had been there to help her at all and had reacted explosively to her being attacked, would have left even the densest person wondering... and Myrna wasn’t dense.  If she hadn’t come here with questions, he’d be surprised-- all the more reason he had wanted to stay away from her, to protect her from whatever his demise would be, but also to keep from seeing the disappointment that had been in her eyes as she realized what he had been ready to do to a criminal.  He passed into his family cemetery, eyes scanning the clearing, realizing after a moment that Myrna was in the mausoleum where his parents were entombed.  Had it been anyone else he would have been suspicious and likely angry for someone encroaching on their burial place, but as he watched her, he saw her lay her hands gently against the stone covers of their graves, the small vase between the two of them filled with fresh flowers, he could see there wasn’t a malicious intent for her being there.  He started toward the building, slowing as he watched Myrna back up and gently drop to her knees, head bowed, hands clasped in her lap.  From his vantage point he could see her lips move slowly and silently, eyes closed, realizing she was praying.

 

He had never been one to pray for anything, even in his darkest moments and certainly even when he was sure he was going to die.  He’d always managed to find his way back and had never really attributed it to any higher power. Maybe it was a childish anger that an all-powerful being had allowed his parents to be taken from him as they had, leaving him alone in the world; but he found it oddly comforting to see her sitting before his parents praying, he assumed, for their continued peace in whatever afterlife they had been granted.  It was one more thing about her that he found made her far different than anyone else he had found himself with, one more thing that made him wish, despite the uselessness of wishing, that things could be different.  

 

She stood after a moment and turned to leave the mausoleum, realizing she wasn’t alone as she saw Bruce standing there, their eyes meeting from across the cemetery.

 


	11. Unlocking Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myrna finally comes to Bruce with her realizations, knowing it could very well lead to the end of something she values but also knowing it can't remain like it is between the two of them. Meanwhile, Bruce has spent the entire day trying to keep himself clear of her, knowing men like him don't get happy endings.
> 
> Or do they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a long time since my last update! I've had so much going on right now that I haven't had the time or the motivation to write, which has really been bumming me out, but I decided I would work on it when I had moments to and I've managed to get another chapter written-- If you've been holding out for the juicy stuff, it's on its way, I promise. I always get a little self-conscious when I get to those moments so they take me a little longer to write! It will happen though.
> 
> I've also updated my "Bruce and Myrna Soundtrack"  
> If it helps, I've heard a few songs that make me think of Bruce and Myrna, so I'll post them as I find them.
> 
> If they had a theme: Time by 2Cellos  
> Kingdom Come by Demi Levato   
> Apocalypse by Jackie Evancho  
> Have You Ever Been in Love by Jackie Evancho  
> Where Do We Go Lindsey Stirling feat Carah Faye  
> No One But You-- Goat Rodeo

Her breath hitched as she remembered why she was here.  It seemed silly to be so nervous around him, they had talked about things people who didn’t trust one another wouldn’t have, spent a night making the effort to know each other, but then again, if she had really known him, it wouldn’t have been a surprise that Bruce Wayne was Batman.  Maybe also if she wasn’t about to tell him, somehow, that she knew it too.  He watched her from across the clearing, the look on his face unreadable. She couldn't decide if it was good or bad, that it wasn't obvious if he was angry or even remotely surprised that she was here. After an eternity of seconds passed and neither seemed willing to make the first move, she told herself there was only one way she'd know for sure, and prolonging the inevitable certainly wasn't going to change that. She walked toward him, stepping carefully for errant Wayne headstones that might be hiding under the tall grasses surrounding her.

 

As she made her way toward him quietly, it might have surprised her to know that Bruce was having similar struggles. He wasn't accustomed to surprises like this, when he chose to make a clean break to something, to someone... he was used to it happening without any fuss. He knew in this case it was unfair to assume that, but selfishly he had hoped it would.  Seeing her walk toward him now, he was reminded, painfully so, of what it was he had been trying to walk away from.  She had her hands tucked into the pockets of a deep blue, dress length coat, that swirled around the tops of her legging covered knees as she walked, her boots crunching against the dried out grasses of the cemetery. Her dark red hair was tied into a braid that swung over her shoulder, some coming untucked and brushing against her face as the wind blew by her.  As she drew closer, he struggled with himself not to pull her into his arms and kiss her like he had two days ago; to forget about everything he had been working toward for a chance to be with her.  This was not something he normally struggled with and it was putting him at a loss, though twenty years of denying himself the opportunity to have a meaningful relationship and this just might be the one that broke him down.  

 

“I guess it's my turn..." She said, looking him right in the eye.  It mirrored the look she had given him in the alley, when she had stood between he and the man who had attempted to kill her.  It made him feel like it had in that alley too.  Although he managed to keep himself together, stay on the task he had maintained he needed to stay on, it wasn't an easily won battle as she stopped within a foot of him. 

 

"To do what?" he responded lamely, knowing full well what she meant, she was here because she knew something, but what she knew was really the question. 

 

"To track  _ you  _ down... I can't afford a new roof if you need that sort of thing... But..." She said with a mischievous smile, giving him the benefit of the doubt that he wasn't actually going to act like a stranger, or at least a man that a few days ago had seemed fully willing to want her in every sense of the word.  Making a point to find her even when he could have called it a draw and moved on after the first sign of trouble.  Bruce, however, thought that might be the only way to get her to go without having to explain himself. 

 

"Myrna-- I'm happy to see you it's just I'm..." He started, Myrna vaguely disappointed that was the direction he was going, but not entirely surprised.  She wondered if this was just his natural defense mechanism against feeling something about another person. In fact, that probably explained why he was rarely with the same woman twice.  Not that she was in the mood to determine why he was consistently reported as one of Gotham’s most notorious playboys.

 

  
“Busy? I know, you said you were busy this weekend but I had the strangest feeling I needed to see you... And Alfred said you would be home soon..." She said, not wanting to sound snide or ignorant of what he had said before, but this was a conversation that needed to happen and Bruce Wayne wasn’t going to squeak out of it.  

  
  
"Ah, of course he did.” Bruce said, of course Alfred let her in, he’d had no doubt.  The man might not go out of his way to defy Bruce, but it certainly didn’t mean he wouldn’t take the opportunity if it arose. 

  
  
"Safe to say he knows your schedule well." She answered him, he could see by the way she was looking at him that she could tell he wasn’t being entirely cooperative with her.

  
  
"Well, Alfred has a tendency to meddle… I’ll have to talk to him about that…” He started, beginning to walk toward the house when he heard her behind him. 

  
  
"Thank you, by the way…” She said, Bruce turning back to look at her, her gaze off toward the glasshouse before it returned to him, he tried to appear as though he didn’t know what she meant, Myrna continuing anyway,  “For sending Dr. Ennis.  He took very good care of me and Penni's pretty much in love with him, so win-win there… Though I suspect you knew that already..." 

  
  
"I don't…” He started, but Myrna wasn’t having any of it, she was going to have to band-aid this situation because Bruce Wayne was a stubborn man.  Well, she was a stubborn woman and if he didn’t realize that already, he’d find out shortly.

 

“You know, Bruce--” She said as she walked past him toward the path to the glasshouse, “If I was a superhero… I think my powers would be knowing when someone is hiding something from me…” She said with no further comment, hands still tucked safely in her coat pockets as she made her way to the house.  Bruce felt a rush run through him as it fully hit him what she was saying.  It wasn’t just that she knew Ennis was in his employ and had been sent to tend to her, it was far more than that and he didn’t really know how to respond.  Myrna was a little surprised at herself just coming out and saying something like that, as it wasn’t really her style, but none of this was her style.  Although it took him a moment, Bruce finally followed her to the path.

 

“What is it you think I’m hiding from you?” he asked, reaching out and taking her arm to slow her so they were facing each other.  She looked at him with a face that said she wasn’t buying what he was selling. 

 

“Bruce-- Despite his best attempts to make up a reason, Dr. Ennis was obviously  _ not _ sent by the city to check on me… And you’re the only person I know who could afford a personal physician, much less one that will do house calls.”

 

“It’s not unheard of…” 

 

“At 4am?” She said trying to keep the incredulity out of her voice. He was really going to keep it up, play dumb and act like he had no idea what she was talking about.  Bruce sighed, rubbing his face as he thought about his next words. 

 

“Alright, I admit that I sent Ennis, I knew you had been hurt and I think I've learned enough about you to know you wouldn't go to the hospital-- so I told him to check on you and leave my name out of it. I didn't want you to think I was being overbearing.” He said, putting his hand up to her face, careful to avoid the bruises he knew were there.  He wasn’t surprised to hear Myrna let out a laugh, not reacting to his touch and smiling at him like he imagined she smiled at one of her students who had been sent to her office for being naughty.

 

“Oh, Mr. Wayne… As sweet as that sounds, you act like that doesn’t lead me to my next question…  You know... The one where I ask how you would know, at 4am, to send a doctor to my house in the first place.” She said, eyebrows raising, head tilting, waiting expectantly for the latest yarn to come her way.  Maybe because he was so reluctant to fess up so she could be relieved she had been right, even though it was understandable, what masked vigilante was going to give up their secret identity to someone they’d known for all of a week at most?  She could see him calculating his next move as he watched her, looking for whatever angle she might have in the conversation taking this turn.  She wanted to tell him she didn’t have an angle, she wasn’t going to, nor would she share with anyone what she knew, she just wanted it to be out between them, so whatever else was between them could move forward…  Or not.  

 

He was still quiet, thinking about his next move, how he was going to answer her when he wasn’t even sure he could without confirming everything he didn’t have to suspect she knew.  He didn’t have to think much longer on it anyway, as she pushed back errant strands of hair whisking around her face in response to the cold air that was biting across their faces.  He was distracted for a moment, as he watched her, realizing as she tucked her hair back away from her face that this is why he had tried not to see her, because of the wave that came crashing down on him when he did.  Not only could he see just the barest outline of the bruises around her eye and cheek, her split lip, still swollen slightly, seeing her here, in front of him, when the last time she had been stood in such a place, she was pleading for him not to act abhorrently, protecting the life of a man who had no respect for hers.  The anger he had felt for her injuries swirling into shame and regret that he had let it happen, but also an almost unshakable urge to close the space between them and kiss her.  

 

It had only been a day since she was here with him last, when he had been under his own false impression he could have something more with her, more than he’d had with anyone else for so long; but it felt like an eternity and he found himself wanting nothing more than that, to hold her close and kiss her until her lips were swollen from something far more desirable than a lunatic hurting her.

 

“You knew to send Dr. Ennis because you were there.  Weren't you?” She asked, finally, breaking the silent pause between them.  There, it was out now, she had said her piece and now he could confirm, deny, argue, tell her off and leave her out here.  It didn’t really matter, it was done.  Bruce regarded her, in a way that she couldn’t decipher.  He was already a difficult man to read, but the way he was looking at her, she couldn’t tell if he was shocked, angry or perhaps thinking she was insane.  Finally, Bruce coughed, Myrna feeling her stomach jump at the sound, she had been so focused on the silence she wasn’t expecting it.

 

“Yes.  I was there.” He said, Myrna feeling a chill come over her that wasn’t caused by the wind.  She had been so sure he would deny it or at least try to drag it out so she might drop it, she didn’t know how to respond, her energies focused on how to respond to that, she didn’t know what to say now.

 

“Oh.” She said, the word escaping her before she had thought it through.  It hadn’t been intended as an exclamation of surprise that he had been there, rather of surprise of his admission that he had been there, but she knew that wasn’t exactly clear.  

 

“Oh?” He asked, looking for the clarification she had assumed he’d need from her.  She tilted her head and gave a small shrug.

 

“I wasn’t expecting you to…”

 

“Tell you?”

 

“Uh… No.” She said, a small smile breaking across her face, “I guess I expected you to deny it, or tell me to get out.  Both, actually…” She said, not sure if he wasn’t still considering the latter anyway. She had forced his hand at this point, neither of them appreciated that sort of thing, but it was done now.  It was almost a relief to Bruce, now that he thought about it, that she knew.  He had been the Batman for twenty years, he could count on one hand the number of people who knew and none of them, aside from Alfred, were people he cared about that much.  It had become second nature for him to be wary of sharing his secrets, especially that one and it hadn’t ever bothered him, after so many years that he frequently lied and omitted details of his life to those around him and he found he didn’t want to do that with Myrna, even if this couldn’t continue.

 

“I wouldn’t do that.” He said, feet moving without his permission, toward her.  She didn’t move, waiting for him it seemed; he stopped when they were but a foot or so away from each other, Bruce’s eyes on her, curious and dare she say, longing?

 

“What gave me away?” he asked, not explicitly stating he was the Batman, but Myrna didn’t need the words to know what he meant.  She exhaled softly, as she matched his gaze and lifted her hand, her fingers ghosting over his face in a perfect reflection of what he had done with her in the alley.

 

“I looked into a pair of eyes behind a mask and I recognized them…” She said softly, Bruce willing her to let her fingers come to rest against him, wanting her touch, even for just a moment.  She smiled at him, head tilting inquisitively over her shoulder.

 

“And the way you reached for me, like you knew me-- but how could that be, when I didn’t know you, couldn’t know you…” She answered him, surprised but excited when he took her hand in his and pulled her to him.

 

“When I saw he had hurt you-- Myrna, I wanted to kill him.  I wanted to end him right there in that alley, it was all I could do to leave him breathing.” He said as he wrapped one arm around her, the other hand reaching to her face, his touch gentle over the bruised skin.  Myrna gave him one of those almost smiles, her own hands sliding up his coat-covered back.

 

“Not going to lie… I almost wanted you to.” She said, feeling some shame creep into her heart thinking about it.  Martin Cooper would not have hesitated to severely injure, if not kill her had no one intervened, so no jury would convict her for feeling fine with the idea that he would meet his own terrible fate for doing so.  She supposed it was less about Martin Cooper dying and more about the black spot it would have left on she and Bruce.  She felt Bruce’s hand move, lifting her face to look at him again, she hadn’t even realized she had looked down, as though she were guilty.

 

“That kind of man wouldn’t have thought twice about killing you, Myrna.  He wouldn’t feel the regret you’re feeling now, that should be enough to help you feel absolved of wrong.” He said, Myrna shook her head, knowing it could be that easy, but that she wouldn’t let it be.

 

“It wouldn’t be because he was dead-- It’s that _you_ would have been the one to do it and it would have been because of me.” She said, trying to put into words how she felt.  Bruce smiled at her, knowing all of this was because she worried for him.

 

“It would have been a burden I’d have been willing to bear, Myrna.” He said, Myrna shaking her head again, confused and delighted all at once.

 

“But why, Bruce?  We know each other, but we don’t  _ know _ each other…” She responded, looking for explanations and wondering if she was trying to talk them both out of everything they were feeling. Bruce tightened his grip on her though, as though in response to her pulling away with words. 

 

“I know enough about you to know you would be worth a lot of things, Myrna.” He said, leaning down and pressing his lips against hers.  She melted a bit, the feelings that had been sparked in such a short time beginning to ignite again and she was content to be there with him, arms around each other, kissing as though they weren’t new to each other.  This went on for a few moments, mouths moving in tandem, their breath warm against each others faces in the cold air as the sun began its final descent behind the horizon.  It wasn’t a surprise to either of them when the kiss deepened and suddenly it became imperative they were closer, holding each other tightly and an exploration of each other could begin.  Myrna’s hands moved from around Bruce to sliding up his chest, her fingertips coming to rest on his jaw and she realized what was happening, her brain running a mile a minute, reminding her they were standing outside and she was in his arms and she was going to let something happen she wasn’t sure should happen right now and why was she complaining?  She pulled back from Bruce, breaking their kiss, Bruce confused for a moment and trying to follow her as she let her mouth pull back from his.

 

"How could they not know it was you?!  How could anyone who's known you at all, look you in the eye even when you're this bat character and not realize who they're looking at... I mean, really..." She said a little breathlessly. She realized she was babbling because she was scared. Not of him, but because there was so much more to this than him simply admitting he was Batman; just as there had been more to him pursuing her as Bruce Wayne. She was out of her element and she wondered if he realized it yet.  What if she went with him, out of the cold and he pulled her close again, only this time they wouldn't be outdoors and having to be thoughtful even when no one was around for miles.  The same doubts as before had returned, only amplified.  Bruce was confused by her sudden train of thought, but laughed in his usual gruff way.

 

"They just don't, Myrna... I don't go out of my way telling people I dress up like a bat and roam the streets of Gotham looking for criminals." He said, Myrna faking shock.

 

" _Really?_ You mean to tell me that's not a conversation starter at rich people get togethers?" she quipped, Bruce having a hard time not chuckling.  

 

"Oddly enough, no, it doesn't go over well with all the other rich people." He said, "I just show up as Bruce Wayne and try to be as dull as possible.  It's a surprisingly good cover." He added, Myrna lifting an eyebrow suspiciously.

 

"Dull?  You think being dull is a good cover?"

 

"Most of the time, yes." He said, shrugging his shoulders, it had worked so far; Myrna shook her head, not as sure as her counterpart.

 

"That sounds exactly like putting on a pair of glasses and acting like it makes you an entirely different person." She said, though Bruce knew of at least one person who would also disagree with her on that account.

 

“I've managed to keep my identity a secret for twenty years… I think we can call your figuring me out as a fluke.” He said, his hands itching to touch her, far more intimately than their current situation allowed. The internal battle he had been fighting constantly since she had been attacked was in full force in his head and it didn’t appear to be letting up.  Myrna looked at him as though she weren't sure if she should be offended or not. 

 

“Excuse me, Mr. Wayne-- But I believe I've shown an intuitive knack for determining secret identities.” She said, catching Bruce by surprise and making him laugh again, which only made her laugh because he wasn't one who participated in such an activity that frequently, it  felt nice, to have someone make him laugh, even if it was at his expense.

 

“You're right, Ms. Swift,” he said pulling her to him again, Myrna wrapping her arms around him again, letting her body press against his happily. It was good to “fit” someone, like they fit. Her head tucked under his chin, face pressed against his chest, the wool of his coat scratching her cheek, the warmth of his own arms around her waist feeling comfortable and familiar. She heard the rumble of his voice against her ear as he continued, “anyone with a secret identity should beware…” he said with a smart tone, making sigh and look up at him, rolling her eyes.

 

“The fact that you’re this unimpressed is disturbing to me.” She said, Bruce smiling down at her, getting caught up in what seeing her smile elicited in him.  He leaned down again to press his lips against hers again, quick kisses, realizing her skin was chilled and admittedly so was his.  The sun was down by now, any warmth it provided gone.

 

“What disturbs me is we’re still outside where it’s cold, when we could be inside, where it’s warm.” He said, the way he said it sending yet another chill down her spine, though this time it was nothing to do with cold night air.  He freed her from his arms, but held out his hand for her to take.  She was quiet for a moment, not extending her hand to take his just yet.  He cocked his head, looking at her questioningly.

 

“What is it?” He asked, seeing a flash of trepidation in her eyes, like she was unsure of something now.  She looked back at him from where she stood, knowing there was at least one question they’d avoided but needed to be answered.

 

“All joking aside… I know what it means for me to know this about you, Bruce.  You can trust that I wouldn’t tell anyone.” She said, sincere and worried he might not believe her.  The corner of Bruce’s mouth turned up, he nodded, hand still stretched toward her.

 

“I know, Myrna.” He said, but she didn’t seem convinced.

 

“Do you?  I mean, I know you could stop me if I tried, I just… I’ve found you’ve become very important to me, Bruce-- I don’t want to be the reason, whatever comes of this, doesn’t work.” She said finally, her heart beating hard at her admission.  She felt reckless for sharing her feelings so soon, especially after years of decrying friends or family she felt broke the cardinal rule of moving too fast.  She didn’t want a whirlwind romance, she wanted something true and solid with him, but she also couldn’t deny that being with him made her feel like she was alive, for the first time in what seemed like forever.  Bruce let his hand drop and looked at her, a sense of excitement and wonder for her shooting through him.

 

“Myrna, I’ve trusted you since the first moment I met you.  That’s not a luxury I claim to have with most people.” He said, and it was true.  Even if he were just Bruce Wayne, the feeling would be the same, he had to be careful, because someone would stab him in the back otherwise; whether it was a figurative knife was dependent on the day and the person.  He could see her searching his face, for some sign that he was just saying it to make her feel more comfortable, but she would find none.  No matter how much he argued with himself, that was something that would always be true.  After a moment, she moved forward and slid her hand into his, their fingers entwining together tightly as they turned back toward the glasshouse, walking together, silent but together.  The closer they got to the house, the more Bruce could hear the logical part of his brain screaming at him to wish her a goodnight, to keep her at arm's length, even when all he wanted to do when they reached the front door and he invited her in was to pull her to him again and kiss her until she was breathless, hold her close to him and tell her how beautiful she was, that being around her was something he found himself wanting throughout the day, every day since he had met her. He wanted to share things with her, about his life as Batman, but also as Bruce Wayne. He wanted her to be a part of everything, despite everything everything telling him, someone like him didn’t get a happy ending. 

 

They reached the glasshouse, Bruce opening the door for her, the warmth of the fire in the fireplace and a good furnace wrapping around them both and fighting off the chills from the outdoors. He took her coat and hung it with his, logical Bruce repeatedly reminding him that hanging her coat up meant she wasn’t leaving; emotional Bruce repeatedly sticking its tongue out at logic, happy she wasn’t. He turned back to her to find her looking into the flames of the fire, lost in her own thoughts. He crossed the room to her, touching her gently to bring her back to him. 

 

“Myrna.” He said softly, Myrna turning to face him a soft smile on her face, Bruce lifting a hand to touch her face. He couldn’t help it, he just had the desire to touch her whenever he had the chance. However fleeting. “I want to show you something.” He said after a second of her attention, dropping his hand from her face and taking her hand in his once more. He led her across the living area and around the backside of one of the mere two walls the entire house boasted. Although she had been here before, Myrna was surprised to find as they rounded the corner that a door was built directly into it. Although it was made of the same wood with metal trim found throughout the house and blended well enough if you weren’t looking for it, you’d miss it. A small cut out in the wood beside it showed a keypad and thumb scanner that Bruce used deftly, the door letting out a hiss and popping open. It took Myrna a moment to realize what Bruce was doing and she suddenly felt something akin to anxiety and excitement snake through her. 

 

Given what she had discovered about him, it wasn’t really surprising he’d have a secret room for the things he’d need for it. Thinking about it made her laugh, even though she knew it probably wasn’t the most ideal time. Bruce looked at her, a little confused and wondering if she was having an episode of some kind as he pulled the door open for them to go through.  She shook her head knowing what she was thinking probably was only funny to her.  Bruce Wayne far too high brow for the likes of a questionably popular book series.

 

“It’s nothing… Sorry…” She said as she followed him down the flight of stairs that proved the house wasn’t the one story it appeared to be.  “Though if you pull a 50 Shades of Wayne on me, I’m out.” She muttered under her breath as their steps echoed on the metal risers of the stairway.  The stairs were built in a circular fashion, thick stone walls made it much cooler as they descended and a quick look down showed an opening that led to a thick concrete floor, the walls covered in what she could only assume were his arsenal of weapons and utilities for fighting crime, as well as a glass case that she couldn’t quite determine what was in.  They reached the last stair and Bruce walked to a black wall, pressing his hand against it, Myrna’s attention pulled the case she had seen from a bird’s eye view.  

 

She realized it was a suit, similar the one Bruce wore and clearly meant for a man, but without a bat symbol or clear characteristics as to who it belonged to.  Garish yellow spray paint interrupted the chest of the suit, the letters drip drying down the front. 

 

**_“HAHAHA! JOKE’S ON YOU BATMAN!”_ **

 

She read silently, it immediately making her nervous.  Clearly this suit was too small to belong to Bruce and frankly the words written on it mocking him told her whoever had worn it, was likely no longer among the living. It had occurred to her many times after realizing who Bruce was in the dead of night that he was involved in a dangerous profession. Whether a criminal managed a lucky shot or some other terrible thing happened, Bruce’s life was in danger every time he left this house as Batman. After twenty years she had no doubt of his skills, but it wasn’t a guarantee.  Looking at a suit that didn’t belong to him but was important enough to him to preserve as a reminder, Myrna knew it had been someone he cared for and just how personal it was. She also knew what that meant for him as he battled crime in Gotham. That he had a score to settle. 

 

“Who did this belong to?” She asked, not looking at Bruce as she continued to look upon it. 

 

“It belonged to a friend… Family, really… Jason…” he replied and she supposed it would take a little more for him to want to tell that story. 

 

“And the writing?”

 

“A message from a warped and brutal mind… Someone I’ve been enemies with for a very long time.” He said, again keeping things to himself, Myrna realizing he might trust her, but there was still much about him as a vigilante and as a man she would have to earn his complete faith to hear about.  She didn’t have much longer to think on it as she heard another lock and door open, turning to look and see it slide open, Bruce standing next to it as it did and revealed his own suit. 

 

It was in this moment that she realized without words he was showing her his secret and confirming to her he was Batman.  He was showing her who he was. 


	12. Why Are You With Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce has finally admitted to Myrna who he is and is showing her his world, despite all his best efforts to walk away from her, it suddenly becomes far more complicated than simply walking away from Myrna Swift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here! Sorry it took so long and I hope you enjoy! It’s my first time writing a love scene— so be gentle with me. :0p

She walked toward the tiny cut out in the room that contained the most recognizable aspect of his identity as Batman.  The suit looking almost unassuming without him in it, hanging on its rack.  She could see everything more clearly, now that she wasn’t having her head bashed in and it wasn’t the middle of the night, the light from the room giving her a far more detailed view than she’d already had.  She had originally thought she would feel vindicated, some sort of relief that she had been right and although she was glad not to be accusing Bruce Wayne of being something he wasn’t-- she realized she felt a new sense of responsibility, for his anonymity and the work he did as Batman.  She studied the dark gray and black suit just ahead of her, which looked like meshed layers, clearly intended to protect the body within it from a wide variety of weaponry, the belt that held all of his gadgetry and weapons, his mask, shaped like the head of bat; it was strange to have this kind of access to something that Bruce had obviously worked very hard to keep a secret.  She knew this was an extension of him, a part of him that would never be denied, not that she would ever ask that of him.  She found herself reaching out toward what was just ahead of her.

 

Bruce watched her as she slid her hand across the chest of his suit, her fingers following the outline of the bat shaped symbol housed there; so soft and gentle on something that was so much a part of him and so frequently the opposite of what she was doing, Bruce could almost feel it as though she were touching his own flesh.  Now she could see what he was without being trapped in the middle of a life or death fight; without the mask, he felt exposed to her in a way he hadn't been before. He found he didn't mind it, because of who she was and what he knew; he couldn't imagine another soul he'd be so willing to feel that way with.  As she let her hand slide up to the mask that gave him an anonymity to anyone else, Bruce realized he wanted that touch for himself and closed the space between them, his hand closing over hers from behind, guiding her to turn and face him; Myrna doing so without hesitation. Her eyes were down turned, shy all of a sudden, as though she knew what he was going to do next and unsure of what her next move would be.  He slid a hand under her chin, lifting her face until she looked him in the eye.

 

"Myrna— you don’t need to be nervous.” Realizing as he said it that he might just be a hypocrite as he felt his own nerves gnawing gingerly away at him. He recognized this was an entirely different thing to what he’d allowed himself to become accustomed to in life. He wasn’t a self-conscious man, he knew he had a draw for women whether it was his money or his body, it didn’t really matter, both parties always appeared to get what they wanted; though he had no doubt there would be a long list of women who would be happy to discredit the thought he wasn’t a selfish partner, “love them and leave them” and all of that; but there it was— every single one of those women were partners to him, whereas when he thought of Myrna, he saw a woman who could be his lover.

 

A lover he could fall asleep beside every night and wake up to every morning, something that wouldn’t falter. He wanted Myrna and not just in his usual way, but in all the ways a man might want a woman. She made him hopeful and irritated and excited and overwhelmed and he wanted all of it. He was not the kind of man who found himself in this state and that’s how he found himself feeling as he had just tried to tell her not to be.  Myrna was more than capable of picking up on this, smiling at him for feeling as she did. She was quiet as she continued her earlier exploration, only this time on him. As her hands lighted on his face, Bruce finding himself buzzing at her touch. It had only been a few days since their last encounter, but it had felt like an eternity for him. She let her fingers smooth across his face, brow and the corners of his eyes; where twenty years of Batman rested in lines. She moved over his cheekbones memorizing them, her fingers curling as the backs of them traced down his jawline and neck, just barely brushing his skin; the ghost of her touch making him almost more insane for her than if she were already naked against him.  He considered interrupting her, the two of them sinking to the floor and having each other right then and there, but he found the feel of her hands against him, running over him to learn him, kept him still for her.

 

She reached the break of his shoulders, their broadness giving her her own thoughts on the matter as her hands slid over them and down his equally thick arms.  She let herself look up from her journey as her hands continued down his biceps and forearms, her skin finally touching his where his sleeves were rolled up and out of the way. Originally for convenience for him, now a blessed opportunity to feel her touch, leaving a powerful electricity in its wake.  

 

Myrna’s hands lit down his wrists and to his own hands, hands that were itching for her but waited for whatever she demanded of him, whatever she wanted, anything she asked, she would have it, no hesitation.  He felt her hands, tiny in comparison to his resting against them; only then did she break her gaze on his eyes to look down at her capture. He had never taken much stock in his hands or any of the rest of him for that matter.  He shaped and molded his body to give him the strength he would need to fight-- to give himself as much advantage as it might offer him in the streets of Gotham, but not a moment was spent on vanity. If a woman wanted it because of the muscle he maintained, it was less of a challenge for him to get what _he_ wanted; but the way Myrna looked at just his hands, thumbs rubbing across the ridges of his knuckles, feeling every imperfection from countless fractures and breaks from breaking villains or breaking obstacles, skin marked with the occasional faded scar from a lucky shot; his hands often the first sacrifice in battle; it made him feel as though there were something to admire. Myrna raised his hands to her mouth, pressing her lips against one and then the other, mere seconds of hesitation on his skin before pulling away, Bruce felt his body tense in reaction to such a simple, yet strangely forward and he’d readily admit, sexy move from Myrna.

 

He watched her, barely breathing, turn his hands so they were palms up to see a similar sight, nicks and imperfections, calluses on fingertips and where palm met finger.   Years of use and abuse as Batman effectively changing him into what she saw before her; he knew there were many more things she would discover were this night to continue and how he hoped it would. Any previous thoughts on the matter were gone, his mind focused entirely on the two of them, here, now.  He was currently taken by the way Myrna was looking at even just his hands-- a way that made him feel as though there was something worthy of her wonder in them.  That he was worthy of her.

 

“What do you see?” He finally asked, unsure of her thoughts.  Myrna looking up at him, hands warm on his.

 

“I see a pair of hands that have stopped tragedies.. Hands that have protected countless lives-- that have held those lives here…” She said resting her fingers against his palms, implying he had held life in the palm of his hand.  It was incredible, the way she said these things, in a tone of amazement over something Bruce recognized simply as a way of life after all of these years.

 

“You’ve held mine there, Bruce-- I owe you everything I could possibly manage for it.” She said with clear sincerity to him, he knew she felt he had protected her from Cooper, that he had swooped in at the nick of time, but she was wrong, Bruce shook his head, ready to clear things up; that old familiar guilt tugging at his guts again.

 

“You owe me nothing, Myrna-- I should have predicted what he would do the second I saw him. If I had he would never have laid a hand on you.” He told her, freeing one of his own hands to lay against her cheek, his touch gentle, just beside where he knew there was evidence of his failure.

 

“There is no way you could possibly have known what he would do…” She said, seeing the look on his face was in disagreement with her.  She tilted her head, studying him.  “You think you have to take on the world's burdens all on your own, don't you?” She asked him, Bruce not answering, but by the way he was looking at her, he didn't need to, she knew he did.

 

“You _don't_ have to.” She said stepping toward him, Bruce feeling something he couldn't quite describe as his arms instinctively grabbed her and pulled her the rest of the way to him. She turned her face up to his, expectant for his mouth on hers, which Bruce obliged happily.  A sudden weight gone as her words filled his head, as though he had forgotten the last twenty years of reminders that he wasn't allowed what this promised to be. He could feel her heart pounding against him, or was that his?  He couldn't tell and almost didn’t care, the powerful draw of her mouth overwhelming. He let his arms slide down her back and just beneath her bottom, lifting her up so they were face to face, Myrna’s legs wrapping around him without hesitation. He also didn't skip a beat, recapturing her mouth with his, he felt her hands on his face, holding him as their lips danced with one another.  She pulled back after a moment, fingers rubbing gently at his temples as she looked him in the eye.  He wondered what it was that drew them together; she was so different than him-- so different than any woman he would have left that gala with.  She was warm, she was kind, she was gentle, even with him-- she was also a smart ass, but at least they had that in common

 

“What?” She asked him as she realized he was searching her face for something.

 

“Why are you here with me?” His tone wasn't accusatory or suspicious, he was genuinely wondering aloud, his voice almost unsure. It felt odd to her, that a man who exuded confidence and had a sexual appeal both in body and bank account would ever feel that way around a woman; any woman in Gotham with eyes or even a vague sense of intelligence would have agreed with her.  Though a moment of clarity through her disbelief, allowed her to be reminded of the many times he had alluded his life was lonely because it was difficult to trust people; more frequently than not he must have people only want him for the petty, shallow things he could offer them, like that body and bank account.  She was petrified for a moment that he believed that of her and she couldn’t breathe at the thought of it.  He was more beautiful to her than she could even describe.  Despite their rocky start, she had continuously found herself coming back to the feeling he wasn’t what everyone thought.

 

As it turned out, she had been right, perhaps not as she had expected.  He had come back even when he could have written their first disastrous night together, off as a lost cause; even making sure her _own_ mission was saved.  He had come to her aid when he had discovered she was in danger, he had sent someone to care for her injuries, the way he had LOOKED at her when he saw the extent of those injuries was enough to give her hope there was so much more to him.  This was a man who had suffered one of the worst traumas a person could, the loss of his family and he had used that pain to create a new form for himself to keep others from suffering that same trauma.   As she thought on his question, about why she was here with him, she realized it was easier for her to list everything it wasn't, than to list everything it was; because everything it was, was too much to put into words.

 

“I don't know.” She said softly, seeing something flash in Bruce's eyes that almost seemed disappointed. “I don't know because I don't know if there's a way to truly describe knowing I belong here, with _you_.”  She said, seeing what Myrna hoped was relief cross his eyes, Bruce reaching for her mouth again, the warmth from where they touched making it difficult for either of them to concentrate, with a promise for so much more for both of them journeying closer.

 

“Myrna,” he said against her mouth, voice low and barely audible, “I want you to stay with me tonight.” He had intended it to be a request, not an order, however it seemed to come out that way anyway, because he _needed_ her to stay with him.  Myrna unphased, nodding her agreement, happy to be told to stay after a long day of wondering if she would be welcomed by Bruce at all.  She had come to recognize that was something she had undeniably come to want, to be needed by Bruce Wayne.

 

“ I don't want to be anywhere else.”  She answered, almost shocked at the speed Bruce moved at her response, Myrna still wrapped in his arms, clearing steps two at time until they reached the top of the stairs they had just descended down.  Although her own arms were happily resting around Bruce’s neck, hands brushing against the back of it patiently, she couldn’t help but laugh when the door seemed to be intent on ignoring Bruce’s attempts to open it.  She could feel him getting tense but couldn’t contain herself.

 

“I can open my own door, you know…” She quipped, hearkening back to her earlier commentary on her independence.  Bruce looking at her with a raised brow, as the door finally complied and he stepped through, Myrna still in tow.

 

“If it means I have to let you go-- not a chance in hell.” He said, voice still low and maintaining an air of authority that she expected from the likes of him-- It sent a shiver coursing through her as he gave her a look that insured her she would not have a restful night tonight; Bruce kicking the door shut behind them, it locking automatically as they walked into the section of house Bruce called a bedroom.  The evening sky had gone completely dark, offering a bit more privacy for the two of them as Bruce turned to sit on his bed, Myrna’s legs dropping so she could straddle his lap.  With his arms free from keeping her against him, his hands immediately dove to her hair, freeing the tie that kept it in a neat braid over her shoulder, his fingers brushing through the dark red tresses, until it hung down her back and over her shoulders, framing her face as he admired it.

 

“I like it like this.” He said, brushing it back so he could touch her face again.  Myrna smiled and laughed,

 

“Well of course,  it _is_ my one true beauty.” She said in jest, using a well worn family joke she realized too late he probably wouldn’t get without her explaining-- and yes, if she were being honest, out of self-deprecation, because she was beginning to feel that familiar anxiety that he was, at some point… Likely soon... Going to want to see her, all of her in a way she hadn’t been seen before.  Her last real relationship had ended long before the attack on Metropolis; she had been young and naive and thought she was loved as much as she was in love and had been terribly, terribly wrong.  She had no regrets, it had been a learning experience, but it had made her very careful about who she allowed herself to be with, which meant no one thus far had made the cut; add in her body being badly scarred during the attack and it had added an element of self-consciousness she hadn’t really thought about until now... _Now_ being when she was straddling the lap of a man she wanted.  Desperately.  It was a combination she was going to have to overcome though, as she felt Bruce’s hands stop abruptly and he looked at her very soberly.

 

“No it isn’t.” He said, Myrna not expecting him to be as serious as he was about it.  Though, it was Bruce Wayne. He made serious a career. She gave him a half smile, trying to reassure, both of them, she hadn’t been entirely serious; but she didn’t know what to say because now she just felt like she was fishing for compliments.  Bruce’s hand slid down her neck, it coming to rest on her chest right over her heart.  “I saw your heart in that alley, Myrna.  I know what kind of beauty you have.” He told her, the quiet between them lasting a beat before Myrna grabbed his face and pulled him in for the most passionate kiss she’d ever given anyone in her life, that self consciousness she’d been worried about melting away with every second she was with him.

 

His hands made their way to her thighs, searching for the edge of her dress, as hers started on the buttons on his vest and button up, Myrna willing her fingers to get their act together as they fumbled with the suddenly, obnoxiously tiny circles.  She managed to get the vest unbuttoned, pushing it off his shoulders until he had to abandon what he was doing to move his arms, the dark gray fabric puddling behind him, her hands getting back to his shirt to make quick work of that.  With the last button out of the way, his shirt hung open and she could just see his chest in the light produced by the fireplace.  She let her hands come to rest on his bare skin, it warm and real against her hands, this wasn’t a dream, so that was reassuring as she slid her hands up and under the collar of his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders so she could have an unobstructed view of him.

 

He was almost exactly what she had expected, his well toned body hadn’t exactly been a mystery, despite wearing suits as frequently as he did, they were all expertly tailored and fitted to his broad shoulders and well built arms; she’d had an inkling of what she might get the chance to enjoy had things taken the turn they had. Now she got to see his chest and planed abs up close and she was not disappointed. He was a proper man, powerful and strong by his own making and she found that rather exciting. As she let her hands continue their exploration of his now uncovered skin, she discovered the subject of scars really shouldn’t have been that worrisome for her.

 

Although long healed, Bruce had his own fair share of them, which, given what he did in the dead of night, also shouldn’t have been that surprising to her, but it hadn’t occurred to her until now.  She saw scars littered across his chest and shoulders and back, some were made by sharp objects, knives undoubtedly, others were obviously bullet wounds, which was unsettling; the one upstaging them all was on his left shoulder and down his chest— the skin was still twisted and angry despite being healed for awhile. Myrna could only hazard a guess as to what had caused it, but she supposed some chemical or something equally as vicious was responsible for it.  She knew, given he fought criminals of varying degrees of awfulness that he would be exposed to this type of thing. It was just hard to believe, despite having been treated rather poorly herself recently, that someone could be so horrible to another. She didn’t want to imagine the kind of pain Bruce had endured when this had happened.

 

Although she was positive it didn’t hurt him now, she couldn’t help but lighten the pressure of her hand as it slipped over it, the skin feeling smooth despite the twisted pattern it created on his chest.  She looked at him questioningly, not sure which criminal mastermind could be attributed to such a wound.

 

“How did this happen?” She asked, Bruce shrugging with an unconcerned smile on his face.

 

“I had a disagreement with someone… They tried to light me on fire… I put them in jail.” He said, like this was just something people did. She let out a snort at his nonchalant attitude about it, maybe she just wasn’t as used to people being terrible as he was. Which she hoped was a good thing.

 

“Oh, well if that’s all…” she said sarcastically, making Bruce chuckle.

 

“It’s just a part of the work.” He said simply and it was— he knew she was smart enough to know that, but he was glad she was still innocent enough to be horrified by it.  The world had enough awful people, it could stand to have at least one Myrna Swift. She laughed at him from where she sat, delectably perched on his lap.

 

“Had I never known about the Batman, and we were together like this, this would have been a far different conversation…” she said pointedly, the scars only made sense because she knew about his crime fighting activities, were he still Bruce Wayne, CEO and billionaire, it wouldn’t.  She slid her hands over his chest again over the reminders of his time as Batman.

 

“Possibly, though there’s also always the chance I could have convinced you it’s the price of business.” He said, turning his face up to capture her lips, Myrna smiling against his mouth.

 

“You’ll have to enlighten me— Are there a lot of knife fights during board meetings at Wayne Enterprises?” She asked him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Bruce happy for the opening to get to her, pressing his mouth against her neck and pulling her closer to him.

 

“You’d be surprised how dangerous some negotiations can get.  Downright deadly.” He responded between kisses to her neck and throat, Myrna realizing this sense of humor was Bruce opening up to her.  She was becoming more distracted by the second and had to remind herself several times in a matter of moments, what it was they were talking about.

 

“I see… Well, remind me never to do business with you.” She said, her focus being entirely lost to his mouth on her neck, but was brought back momentarily when she felt his breath against her skin when he laughed.

 

“Too late.” He said, making Myrna laugh and look at him, it was a change, even from a few minutes ago, that he seemed almost relieved, not so guarded as he was before.  She knew there was plenty she still didn’t know and likely much she would never know if Bruce could help it, but it made her feel like perhaps it hadn’t all been made up in her head that there was something special there between them.  And she liked that she was seeing more of who Bruce Wayne might be, even if it was behind closed doors.  She didn’t have a chance to think on it long when she felt his hands return to her thighs, fingers pushing the edge of her dress up and over them, hands warm on her still covered legs.  It only took a few seconds for him to get the dress to the point she needed to raise her arms, which Myrna did with little hesitation, her eyes trained on his as the soft fabric passed between them, the minute interruption not changing anything as the dress cleared her head and was dropped behind her.  Myrna couldn’t help herself feeling a twinge of self consciousness return as she saw his eyes sweep down and over her now nearly naked body.  She forced it down, they were too far in now and she didn’t have any reason to believe Bruce would be so cruel as to throw her out once he’d seen her.  She had a mean opinion of herself and she knew it, but she couldn’t help herself.

 

Bruce, however, couldn’t keep his eyes off her, knowing there wouldn’t be anything not to like, but still, his imagination hadn’t been too far off.  She was wearing a black lace bra, simple, but effective as it held the swell of her breasts, which seemed to be waiting for his touch, that he would happily be giving soon.  Although he hadn’t seen them due to Myrna’s modest style of dress, he realized her shoulders had a fine dusting of freckles that matched those on her face and arms.  He wondered if he would have time to kiss each one-- and if he didn’t, well he’d just have to make the time.  Continuing his visual exploration, his eyes continued down her body, she curved where women were supposed to curve, the flair of her hips allowing him a purchase to hold her against him, the soft swell of her belly, the pliant, comfortable feel of her under his hands was motivation enough for him to keep touching her.  It was disappointing that his view was cut short as it disappeared under the leggings she still wore.  He, of course, saw the scar, the one she clearly felt made her untouchable, but nothing could be further from the truth.

 

 The scar stretched from just under her left ribs, jaggedly zigzagging down, a few inches above the waistband of her leggings.  From what he had gleaned from the news reports on it and what Myrna had begrudgingly told him, the shard of glass that had violently penetrated her side during the collapse of the children’s museum had a done a number on her, severely damaging her liver and surrounding areas and narrowly missing an artery.  It had been a shock to everyone that she had even managed to keep going after returning to the debris multiple times to retrieve all the children she could, until she was forced to seek medical attention.  Thankfully it was a fairly regenerative organ that was injured, but a setback with an infection and several months of recovery had turned Myrna’s life upside down.  It was the end of that recovery that had led her to leave a comfortable teaching position in Metropolis and move to Gotham in search of a penance Bruce, as an expert in such things, felt she’d had no reason to work toward; but was undeniably grateful anyway, as it had brought her to him.  The scar, though jagged and likely had looked far angrier when new, had healed, the skin opalescent against already pale skin.  It wasn’t the horror Myrna seemed to think it was and he felt determined to show her.  He let his hand slide down her back and to her side, the unfettered access to her that he’d wanted almost immediately after knowing her exciting him thoroughly, his palm coming to rest over the scar.  He felt Myrna’s side tense, instinctively as she felt his hand there relaxing as he made no attempt to move and she realized she liked feeling his bare skin against hers, even if it was over that constant reminder.  

 

Bruce looked her in the eye as his fingers began to trace the line of the scar, Myrna’s breath catching as he mimicked what she had done to him and the look he was giving her.  Even if she was out of practice, she knew what it meant.

 

“I think you’ve let this keep you from far too much already, Myrna…” He said and before she had a chance to respond, Bruce had taken her by the waist, turning them so she lay on her back, Bruce now above her.  He could see her chest rise and fall quickly, her reaction to him only adding to his own excitement.  He wanted to feel every beat of her heart, to hear every sigh from her lips, every brush of her fingers against him.  He looked down on her from where he rested above her. She looked at him with heady eyes, her own hands coming to rest at his sides, just on his ribs. He knew she was still nervous, still trying to be careful not to prove everything she figured he would find detracting of her.

 

“You are beautiful.” He said simply and truthfully, and she was, laid out beneath him, eyes on him, lips parted in delightful fashion and ready for whatever was next. He saw a familiar look flash across her face and he smiled at her. “I know that look, Myrna.” He warned, resting his weight on one arm while allowing his free hand to brush away a few errant strands of her hair from her face so it might join the luxurious puddle of auburn that was fanned out under her.

 

“What look?” She asked, not realizing she had made a face when her body was entirely focused on the fact he was touching her, above her, ready for her.

 

“The look that says you don’t believe me.” He said, Myrna shaking her head that she didn’t know what he was talking about, but was stopped short when he leaned down and kissed her again, his hand coming to rest on her chest, hand splayed open on as he did, she felt it begin to slide down her skin, slow and steady, between her breasts and down her torso until it reached her stomach, just above the waistband of her leggings. He released her mouth for a moment, looking at her sincerely.

 

“Let me show you, Myrna.” He said, his voice deep as his hand slid under the fabric of her leggings and panties, fingers immediately reaching the soft place hidden under them. Myrna inhaled quickly as she felt strong, but gentle fingers pressing against her most intimate spot. She knew she hadn’t felt a touch like this in a long time and she certainly had forgotten what it felt like to be applied by someone other than herself— and it was wonderful.

 

First one finger sliding against her suddenly awoken flesh, opening her enough for a second, circling around the little spot that made this situation feel so good. Myrna softly kicked her boots off and  onto the floor,  raising one leg up on to the bed to allow herself more access to the fingers working on making her body cry out for more.  Bruce certainly knew what he was doing, gentle but firm, fingers separating and curling around that blessed bundle, pushing into her and hitting a center of nerve endings and nirvana; Myrna’s hips lifting off the bed as she felt what he was doing and enjoying it.  Her eyes were closed as she let herself take in the sensations, it was a lovely sight to be sure, but Bruce noted she was quiet— certainly not because she wasn’t liking what was happening, it just made sense, that Myrna Swift wouldn’t draw attention to herself by letting her pleasure be known.

 

_Well that just wouldn’t do._

 

Bruce continued his work, but shifted himself so he could kiss her face and neck, he let his teeth drag softly against her neck, nipping at her skin as he moved down her body, he could feel her breathing increase rapidly, chest rising and falling against him as he continued his ministrations. He reached her brassiere covered breasts and was delighted to find it was a front closure.

 

 _Convenient_.

 

And with a deft flick of his fingers, it popped open, revealing the smooth, pale skin beneath it. He kneaded one palmful with his hand, the other being devoured by the warm cavern of his mouth.   He could tell Myrna was well awoken by his touch now, her hips rolling into his hand, breath ragged, back arching her up into his mouth; her hands, unsure of where to go, slid up his shoulders and into his hair as he gave his attention to the soft mounds ahead of him.  He could tell she was close, her grip on him tightening, body tensing against him.

 

“Do you believe me, Myrna?” He asked her, looking up from the sweet flesh he had been basking in. Myrna’s eyes opened, looking down on him, not answering him because her body was seconds away from reaching a peak. He kept at it, working her into a tizzy, her fingers digging into his hair, his lips on her body again until she directed his head up, eyes looking at him almost pleadingly.

 

“I don’t want to— not without you.” She managed between breaths, he had brought her body to a glorious buzz and she could feel the build up that would bring her a release she desperately needed now. However, she didn’t want it alone and tried fighting it, waiting for Bruce to join her. Bruce smiled at her, and pushed himself up so he could kiss her again, increasing the pressure he was putting on her most intimate area, moving his hand faster until Myrna let out a soft moan. The sound made Bruce’s own arousal increase, which he was becoming painfully aware of with every passing second.

 

“We have all night, Myrna.” He told her, “Just let it go.” She wasn’t left with a choice as her body gave way to the delight it had been pining for since he had begun touching her. Myrna’s back arched up, her eyes shut tight as the release she had been promised rolled through her.  She let out a low keen as her heart and blood pounded through her climax, her hands slid from his hair down to his face, Bruce meeting her gaze as she opened her eyes and looked down at him.  She was looking at him, in a way he couldn’t describe in any other way than wild; he would be lying if he said it didn’t cause his already rushing blood to rush faster and to places more southern.  As her breathing quieted, Bruce slid down her again, kissing down her stomach, along her scar until he reached the waistband of her leggings, sliding them off her legs and onto the floor in one quick motion.

 

When he completed that task, Myrna reached for him, gloriously bare and ready, her hands skimming down his chest and stomach until she reached his waistband and belt, undoing both, pushing them out of the way to join hers. Bruce slipped his arms under her, picking her up and sliding them back completely on to the bed.  He moved himself until he was over her, positioning himself between her legs, Myrna reaching between the two of them and taking him into her hand. He had been ready for a while now, watching Myrna react to his touch and its end result had made sure of that; Myrna taking him into her hands just set him more aflame— she stroked him, Bruce’s own eyes closing in response as he let himself disappear into the feeling of her soft hands on him. He could feel himself reacting to her in a similar fashion, his eyes snapping open when he felt his hips begin bucking into her hand. He stopped himself and Myrna’s gentle care, looking at Myrna with a ready eye.

 

“Minx.” He said, Myrna’s mouth turning up at the corners at the look she was getting. It was an interesting exercise making a man who liked being in control not be. If only for a moment.

 

“Just returning the favor.” She responded, Bruce smiling at her, a sight she still needed getting used to, but liked very much.  

 

“I have something in mind for that.” He said, this time he reaching between them, watching Myrna as he pushed himself into her slowly. Myrna’s hands jumped to his sides, holding on as her body took Bruce in, filling her completely. Bruce finally got what he was looking for as Myrna’s back arched up, mouth curving into an O as she let out a cry in response to him joining with her; Bruce finding he couldn’t contain a groan as he felt her, tight and warm around him.  He let them have a moment to adjust, settling himself above her, hands on either side of her, Myrna’s hands still clinging to his sides, feeling his heartbeat; she was secretly pleased to find it beating wildly against his ribs. It hadn’t just been a fluke then.  Myrna leaned up and kissed him again, she certainly wouldn’t get tired of that.  

 

“I hope I remember how to do this…” She admitted quietly, Bruce gave her a look that said a lot of things to her before he actually spoke, even though it was more a growl than speaking.

 

“I have no doubt you will— I’ll make sure of it…” He said, Myrna’s spine tingling, reacting as he began to set a rhythm for them, hips rolling back and forth against her, the feeling of him inside of her making her blood pound and her body scream for more.

 

“Bruce.” She breathed as he worked to satisfy both their needs. Myrna’s hands slid down his sides and hips, legs tucking behind his backside, pulling him in deeper and giving him leave to do what he wanted while he had her and do what he wanted he certainly did.  She matched his pace, her own hips tipping up and taking him in with little thought to the abandon it made her feel as she did so. Long gone were her worries and hesitations, her focus entirely on the two of them, right here. Right now.

 

She allowed herself the chance to look him over after a moment, feeling drunk on every moment she was with him. She was surprised to see his eyes were closed, face tight with concentration and his own pleasure in being joined to her. In the mix of the fire and moonlight she could see the muscle of his arms from where they surrounded her, the thick wall of his chest trapping her beneath him, shadows falling across the lines and planes of his body.  He was magnificent and at this moment, all hers. She didn’t want that to end anytime soon.

 

 Letting her hands slide up his back, Myrna lavished in the strength there, fingers digging into his skin, holding on to him as they moved in tandem.  Despite what they were doing, she couldn’t help but feel protected, safe around him, both in body and in mind.  He was moving within her but it was gentle, she could tell he was holding back; likely because he was actually concerned with hurting her.  She wasn’t a tiny woman, but in comparison to the steel wall of a body he had created for himself, she was dwarfed by his size.   _He_ might be concerned, she wasn’t and it made her bolder, Myrna letting her nails drag lightly up his back, causing him to let out a satisfying hiss, until she could slip them against his chest, pushing on him, surprising his eyes open. He looked at her, a flash of worry she was telling him he was hurting her, only to find his auburn haired lover with an untamed look waiting for him.  She pushed on his chest again, Bruce realizing what it was she wanted and accommodated, rolling on his back, taking Myrna with him until she rested on top of him.

 

The change of position was unexpectedly incredible as Myrna took over for the two of them, hands braced against his chest and she quickened her pace on him, Bruce taking the hint she could take more than he had originally thought and joining her.  Her head fell back as they moved with each other, faster and more wild. Bruce’s eyes on her as her back arched over his thighs, leaving her naked body open for touching.  One hand came to rest on her hip, holding her to him, the other on the crest of her neck and chest, enjoying the moment as she rode him hard, making it clear through a delightful series of arousing noises coming from her that she was enjoying it just as well as he was.  His hand slipped down her chest, cupping her breast and down her belly until he found that little bundle he knew would only help matters along, sitting up so Myrna rested on his lap, his other arm moving to wrap around her.

 

“Myrna,” He panted, the angle he thrust his hips against her making him feel like he was going to burst any second now, “come with me.” He said against her ear as he pulled her to him, Myrna’s arms wrapping around his neck as they both fought for control.  Their ragged breathing and cries of nearing their own climax driving them on.  Myrna’s eyes squeezed shut as she felt her body tense, a build up beginning in her that was going to overtake her soon.

 

“Are you close?” He asked her, his own body telling him he was too, Myrna nodded, her arms tightening around him in response, Bruce’s following suit, arms behind her back to pull her to him until they were chest to chest.

 

“Oh… Bruce!” She cried out, Bruce finding it hard not to join her, she felt so good, they fit together so well in so many ways, it made him feel a sense that he had finally found something he hadn’t been entirely sure he’d been looking for. Now that he had it within his grasp, he didn’t want to let go.

 

“Look at me.” He said, wanting to see her eyes as she came. He watched Myrna’s face, her lips parted, chest heaving as she breathed hard in preparation of her nearing climax, eyes still shut tight. She didn’t immediately respond, Bruce calling for her again.

 

“Myrna.” He said, her eyes finally opening, drawn to his as he watched her, a look of fascination on his face. She didn’t have much more time to think on it as she felt the beginning of the end, her belly tightening until finally, pulsing and pulling around him, Myrna peaked, her finish also finishing Bruce. As she felt her breath catch in her throat, crying out as pleasure rippled through her, eyes on him, never breaking contact with his, Bruce joined her, his hips bucking as he spent himself inside her, groaning out her name until he had nothing left to give.

 

They stayed, entwined with one another for a few moments as they came down from their shared high. Bruce letting his forehead come to rest against hers as he fought to slow his breathing. Myrna tried to keep her hands and arms from shaking in the after effects of such a moment between them, her hands coming to rest on the back of his neck as they touched, gently stroking his neck at the edge of his hairline, calming him as well.

 

“That was…” he started but couldn’t finish, there weren’t words.

 

“Yeah.” Myrna responded, apparently also struggling for words.

 

“We were…” He tried again but still couldn’t finish. He had been with many others, obviously, a point he wasn’t proud of at this moment but it was what it was— and admittedly, many of those encounters _had_ been good ones. But this one— this one was different. Myrna had given herself to him in a way others hadn’t and wouldn’t have; he’d brought them to his bed specifically because they wouldn’t.  Myrna however, had always been in this for him; from the moment she had met him, she wanted _him_ and she had known she wouldn’t have him without sharing herself just as freely.

 

It had been honest, truthful, no hiding anything. She knew who he was, that he was more than anyone who wasn’t Alfred ever knew and she had accepted that and still gave herself to him, with no reservations.

 

“Yeah…” she responded, still breathless, but looking at him, a hand coming to rest on his face, brushing against the stubble running across his jawline. “We were.” She finished, knowing what he was saying.  He pulled her close and moved them back until they were against the pillows stacked at the head of the bed, laying so they were facing one another.  Myrna reached for him again once they were settled, for once, Bruce happy to hold someone close after a romantic encounter which was also not his style.

 

Myrna let out a contented sigh as she tucked up against him, one hand under her cheek lying against her pillow, the other against Bruce’s chest, his heartbeat and breathing returned to normal, their legs tangled together as one more way to touch. It seemed very important to them both that they keep contact with one another. Bruce brushed her hair off her face, following the line of her face with his hand and guiding her mouth to his for one more kiss. He wasn’t distracted by his need anymore, at least not right now— which gave him the chance to ponder this woman beside him once more.

 

They were quiet, basking in what they had just done and being together.  Bruce ran his fingers over the lines of her body wanting to remember every inch of her for when she wasn’t with him, which he sincerely hoped wasn’t a frequent occurrence.  When he came to her scar, he was reminded how she had received it and it made him think of his mission to stop Superman.  It made him angry that this had happened to her, that Superman and his ilk had caused so much destruction that someone like Myrna had gone through what she had because of it. As he ran his finger along it, he looked back at Myrna.

 

“Do you blame him for what happened?” He asked her, Myrna looking confused for a moment at his question.

 

“Do I blame who?” She questioned until she realized he had meant how she had gotten her injuries two years, “Superman?” She asked, Bruce nodding, stroking her side as he waited for an answer. He was surprised, shocked really when she shook her head no.

 

“You don’t?” He asked her, trying not to be obvious that he disagreed with her, whatever her reason was. She shook her head again and took a deep breath as she thought back on that day.

 

“I blame those responsible… Zod and the others… They actually meant us harm… Superman was on the planet for years before we even knew he was here.  If he had really wanted to see it burn, he would have done it before they came.” She said.

 

“But what happened to you… To your students…” He said, wondering what it was about this woman that she could be so forgiving.

 

“I wish things had been different, that all those people hadn’t been hurt, that there hadn’t been so much destruction in Metropolis— That I had been able to save my kids from it…” she said, the look in her eyes far away as she thought about the losses she’d endured then. “But if Superman hadn’t fought back, I don’t think our world would even exist anymore.” She finished, curious where this line of questioning was going but Bruce didn’t seem to be open to sharing that.

 

“Someone so powerful, Myrna… I don’t know that that can be ignored.” He finally said, Myrna looked at him wonderingly.

“Some would say that of you.” She said with a smile.

“Me?”

“You’re powerful, Bruce. You’re rich, everyone knows your name, your word gets you pretty much anything you would ever want and now that I know you’re Batman— no doubt you have some… Interesting networking. Maybe you can't lift a building over your head, but some might still find you just as concerning.” She said, Bruce looking at her with the same wonder he was feeling. She was incredible and she didn’t even know it. Perhaps she had a point, as someone who had survived the terrors of the Metropolis attack, she had a perspective he didn't. And now he had something worth keeping, a fight with Superman could easily be suicide for Bruce. He had considered being with Myrna would make him waver, and with every intention of walking away from her, he had told himself it was because he was expendable to stop Superman. Now he knew that was a lie and he was wavering because now it was worth more to him to stay alive. He lifted himself onto his arm smiling down at Myrna.

 

“You’re incredible, Myrna.” He said simply, Myrna rolling her eyes at him.

 

“I’m sure you say that to all the girls.” She said with a smile, Bruce shaking his head and leaning down to kiss her as he grabbed the edge of the blankets beneath them, the two of them moving to get under them as if it were the most natural thing for them to do together.

 

“Nope, I reserve that for those who actually are… Which so far, has been just you, Myrna.” He said, pulling the soft sheets up around them, covering them up and giving them a chance to warm one another. Myrna snuggled up to him again without hesitation, Bruce wrapping his arms around her like it was second nature. They watched the fire together in silence for a bit longer before sleep overtook them, Myrna out not long before Bruce’s eyes shut out of exhaustion; he watched the soft rise and fall of her chest and the firelight causing prisms to form along her deep red tresses, he found himself enjoying the sight.

 

Maybe she was right that Superman wasn’t what he thought, maybe all of his anger was misplaced. He didn’t really know, but tomorrow was another day for him to figure it out. For now, all he wanted was to hold her and sleep.

 

And so Bruce’s eyes closed and blessed sleep overtook him.


	13. In My Dreams, I See You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce’s mind won’t let him rest and now it’s only got more to terrorize him with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update.

Bruce walked into the lobby of Wayne Tower, the building bustling as usual with people in and out for the latest business dealings and tours. It was always a good sign for a company to have traffic like this and it made Bruce proud to see it so consistently with Wayne Enterprises. Today, however, he wasn’t here to observe how well things were going with his company, he was here for someone and didn’t take him long to find her. She stood in the middle of the lobby, looking radiant as the sun filtering through the skylight above her lit the auburn in her hair on fire around her shoulders. She wore a soft blue dress that flowed around her, she looked beautiful and comfortable and it only increased his excitement in seeing her.

She was looking around the lobby, seeing him a moment after he spotted her, giving him a chance to take her in without her noticing. When she did finally see him, a smile broke across her face and it made Bruce’s heart full; a happy change in him that he credited entirely to Myrna Swift. They started walking toward one another when the sky darkened, a shadow falling over Myrna as everything went black above her and suddenly the glass of the skylight was was smashed through, glass shattering and raining down around her.

Bruce’s head snapped up as he saw the familiar red and blue of the universe’s last Kryptonian as he smashed into the floor of Wayne Tower; mere inches from Myrna, the force of his entrance causing her hair to whip violently around her face as she raised her arms to protect herself from a shower of broken glass shards. She was surprised and confused by his being here, Bruce on the other hand was more than aware of what Superman was here for and yelled for Myrna to get away, though in his soul he knew she wouldn’t be able to get far. Myrna turned toward Bruce again, fear overtaking her face as she realized he meant she was in danger. It was a fruitless endeavor as Superman grabbed her before she could escape him, holding her shoulders as he glowered over them at his enemy. Bruce could feel his heart drop as anger and fear and the desire to fight when he had no way of fighting such a being clawed at him.

“You took her from me.” He sneered, his words familiar to Bruce though he couldn’t remember why. He didn’t knew who he was supposed to have taken from this alien, he just knew he didn’t want him anywhere near Myrna. He took a small step forward, watching as Superman leered at him from behind her.

“Please.” He said, putting his hands out to show he was defenseless, Myrna’s eyes on him as he offered himself up for her, fearful and pleading. “Take me.” He said, knowing he was the one who was at fault for whatever it was that had angered the Kryptonian. Superman have an eerie smile.

“Take you? Is that all?” He mocked him as Bruce walked closer.

“It should be you…” He said, sliding a hand up Myrna’s neck, her eyes growing wide as she felt it, “and it will be you…” he added, “ But not quite yet.” And with barely a twist of his fingers, Myrna’s neck was broken, the ugly sound of her bones breaking under his grip echoing through the now empty and silent lobby; resonating in Bruce’s ears. The life that normally lit Myrna’s eyes was gone, body going slack in Superman’s grip who let her drop to the ground as unceremoniously as a rag doll.

Bruce’s rage escaped him in a roar as he threw himself across the remaining few feet between them, Superman laughing, because what could Bruce possibly do to him? Launching himself into the sky through the hole he had already made. Bruce followed the line of his escape, aching with pain without having been touched, before looking down on Myrna’s now lifeless body. He dropped beside her, chest tight as he gathered her to him, a new rage smoldering in his belly as he pushed her hair from her face, her head resting against him as he looked at her. Her eyes were closed and if it weren’t for him knowing the truth, he could swear she was asleep. He stroked the outlines of her face, pressing his hand against her chest, searching for a heartbeat he knew wasn’t there.

As he looked upon her, Myrna’s eyes snapped open, hazel eyes replaced with glowing kryptonite green, her once limp hand strengthened as she grabbed his throat until he couldn’t breathe.

“You did this! You let this happen!” She screamed, her voice not her own, Bruce feeling himself grow weak as she crushed the life out of him, wondering if it was less than he deserved—

Bruce shot up in his own bed, cold sweat breaking across him, nerves awash with fight or flight, breathing hard as his lungs fought for air they thought they didn’t have. He was startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder, momentarily causing him to consider having to fight something terrible off him, only to see it was Myrna, but this time, she was fine— alive and well beside him, eyes back to their natural hazel and wide with concern at Bruce’s violent wake from sleep.

“Bruce?” she asked, her question clear to him, but he wasn’t prepared yet to explain to her what he had been dreaming. After a moment, letting his heart return to its regular pace, he realized something that made him look at Myrna in a way that made her grateful the room was still too dark for him to see the blush that was creeping through her. They had already shared something incredibly intimate with one another and until a few moments ago, she had been asleep and bare skinned beside him in his bed. She felt ridiculous that she was feeling this shyness cross over her now, but he seemed to have that effect on her still.

“You’re the first…” He said, eyes still trained on her, voice thick from waking so abruptly from sleep, Myrna unsure what he meant.

“What?” She asked him, hoping for a real clarification and not Bruce’s normal avoidance of answering things she’d like to know. This time he continued to look her in the eye, as though he wanted her to know, a far cry from his usual response to things that threw him off and this certainly seemed to have thrown him off.

“You’re the first to wake up when I’ve…” He started, loathe to say had a nightmare. It seemed so childish and weak, something he wasn’t afforded in life but was plagued with when he had no choice. He had always had nightmares, since the night his parents had been murdered, but they seemed more frequent these days; reeking of impending terrors to the planet and now, it seemed, to those he cared for. He hadn’t been lying however, when he had said she was the first to wake and check on his well-being despite no doubt being shocked awake by his unexpected flailing into consciousness. Others might have stirred or been too startled by his violent wakings to open their eyes and see what was happening, he didn’t know and it didn’t matter as now, the most calming and reassuring sensation was Myrna’s warm and gentle hand on his shoulder as she waited for him to tell her what was wrong. As for Myrna, she understood now, what it was that he meant and it made her feel a sadness for him that he lived a life that followed him even in his dreams.

She let her hand move to his face, her fingers gentle against his cheek, willing him to feel in whatever way he could how she felt about him.

“I told you, Bruce… You don’t have to do this alone.” She said, meaning so much more than his role as Batman. Bruce regarded her, this woman who had come from seemingly nowhere, like it had been an accident he’d met her, but only the most spectacular accident that could have happened. There weren’t enough words to explain it and Bruce wasn’t sure if he wanted to, he just wanted to be here with her, to keep it all for himself. His body had calmed, physically he was fine again but his mind still focused on the sound of the Myrna in his dream dying, her neck breaking, her screams at him that it was his fault she was dead echoing in his head. His hand nearest Myrna reached out to pick at the sheet currently wrapped around her, he usually had a plan, knew what the next move was, always one step ahead, but not at this moment. Myrna stayed quiet for a moment, leaning forward to press a kiss against Bruce’s shoulder before laying her head against him.

“It’s difficult sometimes…” he started, considering his words carefully, “to see what life could be like…” he said, seeing Myrna’s profile in his periphery, her breath soft against his arm where her head rested.

“But then you’re given a chance to.” He added, Myrna hearing what he was saying and lifting her head to look at him as he turned his face toward her. She was searching his face for something, likely deception, he knew of the two of them, she was the one who would be honest to a fault in comparison. Years of hiding and keeping secrets had led Bruce to this moment, but now that he was in it, he was being honest too. She didn’t know how to respond in words, but she felt something stir in her, that drove her to move forward, pulling the sheet that was tucked around her out, sliding over him so she straddled his lap again, Bruce’s arms wrapping around her tightly instantly and pulling her to him. Myrna’s fingers brushed through his hair and down his face as they sat together, bare skin warm against one another.

It felt normal, as though holding one another was something they had done many times before. This human contact, real human contact Bruce hadn’t realized he had needed until he felt it. His hands slid up her back, skin warm and smooth against his fingers, the lines of her back elegant and strong. Myrna let her own hands come to rest on his shoulders, fingers gently kneading into his tense muscles, taut from his restless sleep. She hadn’t been ignorant that life as Batman would take its toll on him, but she realized she hadn’t considered it would be much deeper more than a physical toll. She should have known better and it pained her to think of everything he might not be able to forget so easily. She didn’t tell him she had woken seconds before he had, the sound of him calling her name in terror breaking the peace of her own sleep and made her heart drop. When he had shot up in the bed, ready for a fight that didn’t exist and his chest heaving with horror, Myrna hadn’t hesitated to sit up with him, waiting to comfort him. It was possible this was why Bruce preferred more temporary personal relationships with people than long term and unfortunately she could understand why.

As she worked the muscles under her hands, Bruce’s eyes closed and he allowed himself the bliss the feeling of her touch was bringing him. It was amazing how something as innocuous as a gentle touch by another could break the mask of even the most dedicated loaners. She worked away the tension and stiffness his mind had created and it left him warm. His eyes opened with disappointment when she pulled back, letting him go and leaving a cold void between them. He reached for her as she sat back on her knees away from him, the moonlight filtering through the glass windows washing her with an ethereal glow as she shook her head no.

“Lay on your stomach.” She said, quiet but firm. He wasn’t sure what she intended to do but complied anyway, happily surprised when she began to rub his back, continuing the work she had started earlier on more of him. He had never stayed with someone who had even thought to do something as simple as this for him. He suspected he wouldn’t find it quite as nice if there weren’t a beautiful, naked red-head now straddling his back, massaging it with firm but kind hands. Every second bringing him closer to a level of relaxation he hadn’t allowed in a very long time. The warmth of her against him as her thighs, tucked tight against his sides, rocking ever so slightly as she leaned into him to reach his broad shoulders, over his scarred skin, adding a tone of arousal for him; thoughts of the terrible nightmare that had woken them, almost a distant memory now as he focused on her.

After a few more minutes, Myrna leaned forward until their faces were near one another, her hair slipping over them in a long curtain, almost shielding them from the outside.

“Better?” She asked quietly into his ear, Bruce’s lips twisting into a small smile despite their owner.

“Better,” he agreed, “but I think I know how to make it even better.” Turning over causing Myrna to be thrown off guard, Bruce catching her before she was knocked over, the sudden movement causing her to laugh as he turned them and she was beneath him once again.

“I feel like I’ve been here before.” She said shaking her head from where she lay as though she were put out, even though she wasn’t at all sorry about her predicament, Bruce made very aware of that as she wrapped her long legs around his waist, happy to settle him in the soft crook her thighs. He ran his hands up her legs and sides.

“Well it went so well the first time.” He said leaning down and grabbing her mouth with his own, Myrna very receptive to his touch, hands sliding up his back as her arms wrapped around him trying to pull him closer. She agreed their first encounter had gone so well that her own body was more than ready to oblige a second time, while her brain hollered for him to hurry up and have her already. She wasn’t sure how to feel about her sudden attitude change on when was an appropriate time to consummate a relationship but she suspected she’d manage to make peace with herself with it somehow. She was thoroughly enjoying Bruce’s kisses as they left her mouth and moved down her body, across her chest and stomach, mouth tender across the zig zagging scar across her side, until she realized how far he had moved down until she saw his salt and pepper head was nestled between her thighs. Myrna tensed when her brain made the connection and suddenly felt underprepared and almost (almost) embarrassed that he was there, preparing to put that mouth of his on her most sensitive area.

“Bruce…” She breathed out, half heartedly trying to stop him, only to be stopped herself when he looked up at her from where he currently rested and she saw the look in his eye was all but telling her out loud she was his at this very moment. Myrna’s belly tightened knowing there really wasn’t an argument she could make that would dissuade him from doing what he was planning and within seconds every single nerve in her body was redirected and set aflame by him. He used his mouth to find places, Myrna hadn’t even considered would feel as much or as good as they did, her mind entirely focused on the rhythm he was setting with his tongue.

Bruce, thoroughly enjoying the sounds he was eliciting from her now that their first experience with one another was out of the way and some of her shyness was gone felt Myrna’s fingers digging into his hair as she held his head against her, occasionally losing herself to how good it felt and pressing him harder against her only to remember and loosening up quickly, clearly afraid she was going to suffocate him to death or something equally as horrible, which only made him want to make sure it was as pleasurable an experience as possible because even now she worried about his comfort when this was all for her. He increased the speed of his movements, Myrna’s breath hitching and her back arching, thighs tightening against him as that magical little bundle of nerves was thrown into overdrive. He could hear her breathing hard and he elected to make sure she would remember why as he allowed two fingers to join his mouth, all of this clearly new for her as her hands tightened in his hair, back pushing off the bed and soft cries coming from her telling him she was definitely enjoying herself. Watching her react to what he was doing to her only added to his own excitement and he knew it wouldn’t be long for him until he’d want to do more than put his mouth on her. It seemed Myrna was in the same state as after a few more minutes of his ministrations, she tugged on his shoulders, urging him up and toward her so he was above her again.

“Bruce,” she said, her chest tight and voice full of need, “please!” she said, not needing to say much more to him as Bruce was already wanting the same thing and of the same mind. It didn’t stop him from being a smart alec though as he drew himself over her, pressing a kiss to her lips and looking at her before saying what was on his mind.

“Better?” he asked, Myrna rolling her eyes as she took a shallow breath, he had certainly worked her into a state, not that she was complaining, he just happened to know how he good he was at doing that to her.

“I don’t know, I might need a little more...” she said as she wrapped her legs around him once again, happy to show him what she meant, but he didn’t need anymore persuasion either and just as before, they fit together, time stopping around them as they moved as one. Bruce rolled onto his back, Myrna rolling with him, taking his place above. His hands slid into her hair, the thick, smooth tresses tangling around his fingers as he did, Myrna leaning down to kiss him, crying out against his mouth as he moved within her, enjoying the sensation. Although they had been woken abruptly by Bruce’s dream, it was all but forgotten as they were lost in one another, tangled together and happy to be so as the night waned on. With every touch, with every sigh, Bruce let himself believe this was all there was for him now and it felt good, he wanted more, he didn’t want to deny himself any longer.

Holding her waist tightly as Myrna joined him, Bruce followed her lead, wanting her to feel as he did, both in the physical and more. His body enjoying the feel of her around him, her fingers branding his chest where her hands rested against his flesh, the sounds she uttered as her own body screamed its approval. Dawn began to break as they reached their peak together once more, bodies sated and exhausted from a night of discovery. As the two came down from their high, Myrna tucking herself against him again, Bruce wrapping his arms around her tightly, not wanting to let go as his body betrayed him to rest, when all he wanted to do was watch over the woman beside him, long red hair fanned out across his shoulder from where she lay, her hand resting over his heart, lifting in time with every breath he took. Eyes heavy, Bruce couldn’t fight it anymore, sleep overtaking him once more, though this time, it was blissfully empty of any nightmares, about Myrna or otherwise and his rest was the first he’d had in months, his mind at peace, even if just for a little while.  

 

If only this could last forever. 


	14. Breakfast in Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night full of passion has left Bruce ending his weekend almost like a normal person. Trying to deny he wants more of that while still maintaining Superman must be stopped is becoming more difficult by the second, for a man who's always one step ahead, it seems he's one step behind now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been awhile since I updated and this isn't a long one, but I've had a lot going on at work that's kept me from working on anything fun... So thank you for sticking with me! I will get this finished and I promise I have an idea for a sequel if anyone is interested!

Bruce woke the next morning with the sun shining in his eyes. He realized how late it must be for that to be happening, which was confirmed by a quick look at the clock beside the bed. He was frequently awake by 5,  _ sometimes  _ 6 in the morning every day, if he slept at all. Here it was almost 8:45 and he felt as though he had overslept well beyond that. Oddly enough he was perfectly fine with this discovery, his body rested, mind content, he was almost glad for the reprieve from his normal routine. It was Sunday after all, normal people usually slept in on them and he had at least one good reason to follow their example. Breathing deeply, muscles stretching in response to his waking, Bruce reached out to the space beside him, fully expecting to find the warm body of Myrna next to him, surprised to find it had been vacated and apparently for awhile as the sheets she had been tucked under were cold. He leaned up from where he lay, looking around, not immediately seeing her.

 

Admittedly he was usually the one who did the leaving early in the morning, his guests waking to his side of the bed cold and empty.  Now he was experiencing how that felt, and he found he didn’t care for it. His ears perked at the sound of something happening in his kitchen, the clink of plates and utensils being set out or something of the like, it seemed someone was getting breakfast ready.  Slipping his legs over the side of his bed, bare feet coming to rest on the cool floor just below, Bruce stood, stretching himself completely into wakefulness. He grabbed his pants that had been discarded the night before, noting Myrna’s things were still mostly present, though what she had elected not to put back on was neatly tucked out of the way on one of the lounge chairs near the large glass windows of the room.  He came around the corner of the large dividing wall toward the kitchen and found her making scrambled eggs. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he took in the view, which was plenty pleasing. Myrna had slipped back into her dress, but her leggings were folded back on the lounge chair, leaving her legs blissfully bare. Her hair was loose, tossed over her shoulder as she pushed the little yellow nuggets of eggs around the pan, the soft hiss of them cooking emanating off the stove.  Bruce watched her for a moment, Myrna not yet noticing his presence as she opened the fridge, looking around the unfamiliar territory for whatever it was she needed. After a moment she found it and pulled it out, bringing it back to the stove. She had managed to get things prepared rather deftly and Bruce found he could appreciate someone who wasn’t himself preparing a pot of coffee that would quickly go cold because he was busy with other things and forgot about it. If it weren’t for Alfred bringing him things while he worked, Bruce thought it was very likely he would starve.  He had lived a life constantly on the edge of the latest catastrophe, or the latest villain, that he never slowed down long enough to enjoy something as simple as eggs for breakfast unless it was going to give him some sort of advantage. 

 

He heard the toaster pop and slices of neatly browned toast appeared, waiting for Myrna to pay attention to them as she lowered the heat on the pan of eggs ahead of her.  As she worked, Bruce decided looking wasn’t enough and closed the space between them, bare feet padding quietly along the floor. Myrna jumped as Bruce’s arms snaked around her waist from behind, but calmed when she realized who it was, she shook her head as she was pulled back against a familiar broad chest. 

 

“You know, just because you  _ can _ ninja your way into a room, doesn’t mean you  _ should _ .” She said, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder; Bruce smiled back at her, shrugging as his arms tightened around her.

 

“But it’s served me well so far.” He responded, letting his head come to rest against hers as they stood, pressed together, Bruce catching the soft scent of her hair and turning his face to take it in.  He had always assumed it would feel nice to wake up like this, to be able to hold someone and breathe them in because he could and wanted to; thus far, he hadn’t been disappointed.

 

“Your hair smells good.” He said, still taking in the scent; roses and something else, just exotic enough he couldn’t place but quite liked.  Myrna smiled, pushing the pan of eggs to the back of the stove and turning the burner off before turning to face Bruce, still in his arms.

 

“You’re just now noticing?  Wow, I’ve really gotta up my game.” She said jokingly, Bruce letting out a snort before he leaned forward to kiss her.

 

“Well, I was a little preoccupied.” He said, Myrna’s face going warm as she was reminded of their activities the night before.  Of course she wasn’t opposed to said activities having an encore, as Bruce’s kisses left her mouth and began traveling down her neck, his lips soft but intense against her pulse.  Her hands slid up his chest, wrapping around his neck as he focused his attentions on that sensitive spot, happy to forget all about the meal she had made for them and focus her attention on this moment with Bruce.  Unfortunately it didn’t last long as door of the glasshouse opened, Alfred entering with a rush of November cold following him, the elder man realizing too late he had interrupted something as Myrna pulled back from Bruce, face reddening as she realized he had walked in on them together; she clearly having stayed the night, wearing the same dress he had last seen her in and having obviously submitted to her baser instincts.  It likely wasn’t Alfred’s first experience in walking in on such a sight, but  _ surprisingly  _ that didn’t actually make Myrna not want to melt into the floor any less.  Bruce on the other hand wasn’t embarrassed, so much as annoyed but kept it to himself as Alfred let out an apologetic cough.

 

“Miss Myrna… Master Wayne…” He said, giving them a quick nod and making a beeline for the hidden doorway Bruce had taken Myrna through the night before.  He had plenty to work on deep in the bat cave and before he arrived at the house, he had assumed Bruce’s bull headedness would have forced poor Miss Myrna to leave in frustration at Bruce’s insistence he couldn’t be with her, despite his clear desire to be.  Alfred was nothing but shocked at how wrong he had been. He was more than pleased that he was wrong, but nevertheless it didn’t make the current situation less awkward as he went to unlock the door with his own fingerprint. He recalled he had been given a task to do before Bruce had arrived back at the glasshouse, an item left for him to find in Bruce’s car before he retired for the evening and as the door popped open, Alfred walked briskly back to the kitchen, setting a small box with a lid on the counter.

 

“Before I forget-- as requested Master Wayne.” He said, turning on his heel quickly to get downstairs and out of the way before it got even stranger.  As the door shut and locked behind him, Bruce looked at Myrna, whose face was starting to return to its normal color, though her cheeks maintained a healthy pink from being walked in on.  He couldn’t help but smile at her for being so, well, her. He pushed the box up the counter towards her, Myrna looking questioningly at it before she picked it up, lifting the lid slowly.  As she realized what was in it, she looked back up at Bruce, eyes wide.

 

“How did…” She started as she set the lid on the counter and picked up the silver dragonfly barrette she thought she had lost forever in an alley almost two days ago.  Alfred had done an impeccable job repairing it, unsurprising given the man’s skills. The mangled wing and broken clasp looked as though they had never been thoroughly damaged during Myrna’s attack, the silver shone in the morning sunlight having been polished within an inch of its life.  

 

“I went back to the alley yesterday…  I happened to find it while I was there.  It was damaged though, so I asked Alfred to repair it before it was returned to you.” He said, Myrna looking at the barrette and then back up at Bruce, the smile on her face enough to make him break into one as well.  Clasping the dragonfly to her chest she closed the distance between them again, tipping her face toward his and kissing him in thanks.

 

“Thank you.  Truly.” She said after they parted, Bruce laying a hand against her cheek.  “And Alfred, of course…” she added, not wanting to forget the elder man for bringing this back to her in it’s perfect form.  Bruce laughed, teasing her. 

 

“I could call him back up if you like, you could tell him yourself…” he said, Myrna rolling her eyes and slapping his shoulder lightly in protest. Excuse her for not being used to someone knowing immediately when they see her that she had totally slept with their boss.  Bruce grew serious again after a moment, closing his hands over hers holding the dragonfly. 

 

“I know it means a lot to you.” He responded, Myrna nodding.

 

“It does, I thought it was gone and it broke my heart.” She answered, wondering why he had gone back to the alley at all, but not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth.  Whatever his reasons were, at least in the end, in this moment, she had everything she wanted. Bruce smiled at her, thumb stroking her cheek.

 

“You’ll have to tell me the story behind it…” he said, dropping his hand and reaching around her to pick up the plates Myrna had set out for them to put their breakfast on, handing her one, “As soon as we get breakfast in bed.” He said, Myrna laughing and taking it from him.  The two filling their plates with Myrna’s cooking efforts and heading back to the bedroom area, sitting opposite each other on the bed as they ate. It was comfortable like this, the sun pouring through the windows, the gentle roll of the lake outside providing a relaxing view, when they weren't talking to one another, comfortable on the bed as they ate.  Myrna sat cross legged across from him, Bruce sitting with a leg hanging off the side of the bed, plate balanced on the other. After allowing her a moment, he nodded toward the dragonfly now sitting beside her.

 

“So, what’s the story on that…” He said, genuinely curious.  Myrna laughed and set her plate on the bed beside her and picking up her newly repaired barrette.

 

“Persistent, are we?” she said as she looked at the silver piece in her hand, Bruce nodded, waiting for her to tell him.

 

“I tend to be.” He said, Myrna smiling, she couldn’t say she didn’t like that about him.  If he weren’t, they wouldn’t be sitting here together.

 

“It was my grandmother’s-- My grandfather, Erwin’s wife… I never knew her, she died when my mother was very young.  My parents gave it to me when I graduated from college, my grandfather had intended to give it to me himself, but he had passed before he could.” She said as she popped the clip open and pulled her hair back, careful to avoid her stitches when she got it in place and closed the barrette. Now everything felt right again. 

 

“This was hers too.” She added, holding her hand out and showing Bruce a ring on right ring finger. Silver, much like her dragonfly, two Celtic  trifectas held up a bright white stone, opal if he recalled correctly, a stone that was known to contain the rainbow as evidenced by the spectrum of colors he was seeing just looking at it.

 

“It’s beautiful.” He said as she pulled her hand back and looked at the ring she’d worn every day since she had received it as part of her graduation gift.

 

“I wish I had known her.  All my grandfather ever told me about her was that she was magnificent and it was an honor to have been her husband.  I’m named for her…” She said, she had a look on her face, one Bruce knew from his own experience. Of wishing someone were there when they couldn’t be.  He’d worn it many times as a child and even occasionally as an adult when he was in a situation he could have used council on by one of his parents.

 

“Was she ill?” he asked, curious to know more, Myrna shook her head.

 

“I don’t really know, even my mother doesn’t know.  She only remembers my grandmother in flashes, that she was kind, but firm and that growing up, both her parents were military.  She died in 1967, when my mother was five.” It was a mystery to be sure, saddening for a family to lose a wife and mother so young.  

 

“Well, I’m sure she would be proud of the woman her granddaughter turned out to be.” He said, Myrna smiling and looking away from him for a moment, it was still taking some getting used to that someone not of her family was seeing her as she was.  She didn’t have a chance to respond when she heard a buzzing sound, the two looking around until they realized it was her cellphone practically buzzing out of her purse where it hung by the front door. Looking at Bruce apologetically, Myrna hopped off the bed to get it, reaching it just in time to discover it was her mother calling.  She came around the corner of the dividing wall where Bruce continued to eat his breakfast, shaking her head.

 

“Hi, mom.” She answered, the sound of a relieved but annoyed woman on the other end of the phone confirming it was her mother.  Bruce laughed as silently as possible as Myrna’s let her eyes widen with annoyance matching her mothers. She set the phone against her chest, whispering loudly.

 

“Thirty-two years old and I’m being grounded for not picking up my phone.” She said sarcastically, a sharp a retort from the phone pulling her back into the conversation.

 

“No, I didn’t say anything.” She responded quickly, knowing she was caught.  She walked over to the window, waiting for a good break in the tongue lashing she was getting to try and get her mother off the phone, looking out across the water just beside where she stood, protected from the elements, but certainly not the wrath of her mother.  She was surprised again when she saw Bruce’s reflection beside hers, he had finished his breakfast and was now looking for seconds, arms wrapping around her again, mouth searching for the soft skin of her neck and shoulders. Myrna felt herself melt against him as his lips made contact, turning her head to  face him and mouthing what she couldn’t say out loud.

 

_ “Not fair!”  _

 

Bruce shrugged and went in for more, Myrna happy to oblige but now finding it even harder to concentrate on what her mother was saying.

 

“Mom, I’m sorry I didn’t answer my phone-- I wasn’t trying to make you worry, I thought Penni might tell you I was…” She felt herself trail off as she felt Bruce’s mouth drift down her neck to her shoulder, his hands stroking her sides.  She coughed and got back on track, somewhere between wanting to punch Bruce and jump him right there for being such a tease at this exact moment. “Was going to be out.” After a minute or two more of her mother reminding her it was important to keep in contact with her family after such a terrible trauma and its resulting effects-- Myrna knowing full well her mother meant awful things, when Myrna was definitely enjoying one of the resulting effects right this second.  

 

“Yes, I promise I will make sure Penni knows where I’m going next time… I will answer my phone.  Yes, I know I’m your only child... “ She said, leaning her head back against Bruce’s chest as she desperately hoped this conversation would come to an end soon.  Bruce could hear Mrs. Swift’s voice soften as she finally felt she had made her opinion on Myrna’s brief disappearance clear. He felt Myrna’s shoulders loosen and the look on her face changed from one of annoyance to understanding why her mother was as upset as she was.  In the last two years, her daughter had nearly been killed twice; a nightmare for any parent. Not knowing where her only child who had been viciously attacked and injured not that long ago had made her worry far more than Myrna had ever intended.

 

“I love you too, mom.  I’ll see you later.” She dropped the phone from her ear and hit the end button, the lock screen showing her several missed calls from Penni and her mother.  As well as plenty of missed texts. Penni had known where Myrna was going the night before, but maybe she had assumed Myrna would be her usual dowdy self and come home before anything with Bruce happened.  She was just glad Penni hadn’t  _ told _ her mother who she was with, because that would have been a far lengthier and likely painfully awkward conversation. She shut the phone down and tossed it on her pile of things in the chair beside the window.  She turned to look at Bruce, a small smile on her face.

 

“My family worries.” She said, Bruce nodding.

 

“I can see that… And I understand-- you’re very precious to them, it’s natural they’d want to see you safe.” He said, Myrna lifting her hands to his face, smile growing on her face. She saw something else when she looked at him though. 

 

“What?” She asked him, Bruce smiled back at her, wrapping a hand around her waist, the other brushing through her hair.

 

“I understand because I feel the same way.” He responded, Myrna feeling her skin buzz with the realization he was feeling something for her.  That he was feeling like she was. 

 

“Then I suppose my mother has nothing to worry about.” She said as Bruce pulled her closer to him, happy to wrap her arms around him as tightly as she could. 

 

“Why?” Bruce asked her, Myrna tipping her face up to look at him with a trademark grin. 

 

“Because I know a ninja.” She said, Bruce chuckling and leaning down to kiss her again.

 

“I’m not a ninja…” 

 

“Well you certainly sneak up on people like one and I can’t exactly tell my mother I’m seeing Batman… So…” she said, making Bruce laugh again before he lifted her up again, Myrna letting out a small squeak at his unexpected move.  He walked with her in his arms over to the bed before dumping her indelicately on it, Myrna laughing. 

 

“What are you doing?” She said through her laughter, Bruce lifting an eyebrow conspiratorially. 

 

“Showing you I’m not a ninja.”

 

* * *

 

It was early evening when Myrna left for home, much to both their disappointments and Bruce’s continued internal battle that it was for the best.  Myrna reminding him that they both had work to complete tomorrow, even though his work wasn’t what she thought it was. He knew in the back of his mind, he’d already let a day pass and gotten no closer to completing his self imposed mission; allowing himself to lose time to her.  He could admit to himself, the rage he’d been feeling in his belly about Superman and the threat he posed had dissipated in that time with Myrna, feeling that he’d much rather be with her than planning to steal Kryptonite or fighting an alien super being. The rest of him, all that had been Batman for most of his adult life told him that wasn’t an option and it was angry that he hadn’t been strong enough to let her go the night before.  Now, after a night and day of losing himself in her, intimately, mentally and anything he hesitated to think of now, he was even less inclined to do what he had set out to. Not that he didn’t still believe there was still a threat, he just wavered on if he needed to be the one to end it. 

 

After seeing her off, the goodbye lengthy as Bruce found himself finding it difficult not to want to touch her, even after an evening and a day of doing little else; Bruce straightened himself out and went to the batcave where Alfred was still working diligently despite arriving hours ago.  Bruce felt a twinge of guilt that he had left the older man to work while he allowed himself the day to do as he pleased and hadn’t done anything of substance for his own plan. He knew Alfred would have no problem telling him how he felt about it, if he had an opinion. When Alfred saw Bruce step off the lift leading to the batcave, he had a look on his face that Bruce hesitated to call hope, but knew very well it was.  Alfred was always hopeful that Bruce would get a move on in the romance department.

 

“I see Miss Myrna was finally able to escape your clutches.” He said, Bruce rolling his eyes as he walked toward a computer station.

 

“Yes, she was glad to be free of me.” He said, Alfred shaking his head as he continued to work on a wiring issue in the suit.

 

“Master Wayne, I’ll admit it has been quite some time since I’ve had the attention of a beautiful young woman, but I don’t believe either of you would ever be glad to be free of the other.” He said with authority, Bruce knowing if he let himself think on it too long would likely agree with him.  He sat down in front of the computer station before pulling up a complete map of Lexcorp and its assorted property, pushing thoughts of Myrna out of the way to focus on his work, but not before he heard Alfred mutter.

 

“Though if you were going to threaten me with firing for speaking her name, you could have at least  _ tried  _ not to bed her.”

 

Bruce took a deep breath, keeping any retort he might have to himself; knowing he fully deserved whatever ire Alfred might have had about the situation.  He knew Alfred was far from upset Bruce had given in to Myrna. He had made it plain that he liked her, far more than he had ever liked any other Bruce had been with.  He had gone so far as to show his grown charge, after Myrna had been attacked that Bruce was more invested in this budding relationship than he had been with any of those others and had even had the foresight to know that Bruce, for all his insistence it would be best to walk away from Myrna, had been unable to keep his own promise that she would be better off thinking he didn’t care for her.  Now they were well beyond that and he would be lying to himself if he tried. So rather than fight it, he focused on the task at hand, no matter what he felt for Myrna, no matter what he wanted, there was still a threat to the world in Superman and in turn, a threat to her; and the only way to stop him, was currently locked down in Lex Luthor’s science labs.

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Myrna had barely entered her own residence where she was greeted by three happy, wagging dog family members and one best friend who was on the cusp of either kicking her friend in the shins for going silent running for almost 24 hours straight or dragging her to their spots on the couch and grilling her for whatever details she could.  It took Penni all of a minute to make her final determination before she dashed to the fridge for cold drinks, holding them up in the air with a big, hopeful smile on her face.

 

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” 


	15. The Pieces Are Set...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Myrna's weekend of bliss ends with the start of a new week and the promise of a future neither would have thought of, but as with most good things-- must it come to an end?

The start of the week was like any other for Myrna and Bruce; Myrna after spending the rest of her evening giving Penni the chance to gush about her first evening out with Dr. Ennis-- the delightful British doctor everything Penni had hoped for and more it seemed; telling her friend about her own with Bruce.  Leaving out of course, that she had discovered he had a secret identity as a notorious vigilante of Gotham, while also maintaining some delicacy in how much she shared about their lovemaking. Not because she didn’t trust Penni implicitly with her secrets, but found there were some things that she wanted all for herself now that she had experienced them; and the memory of Bruce’s hand sliding up her leg, or his mouth on hers, the sound of him finding his release with her…  Well, she was going to be selfish and keep those things to herself. Penni didn’t seem to mind, some details were better left unsaid, but was smart enough to assume Myrna’s evening had been far more lively than she was letting on. Based on how content Myrna seemed to be now, even after the brutal start to her weekend, it looked like Bruce Wayne had managed to turn it around and be the man her friend deserved.

 

And maybe a little more.

 

Not that she wasn’t still prepared to have someone ‘hold her weave’ if he turned out to be a lying crapweasel.

 

 

* * *

 

Myrna on the other hand, woke up willing to admit without a doubt to herself, that she was completely taken with Bruce Wayne and given a little more time, she’d have a word for it that she’d dared not utter to anyone in a very long time.  She was surprisingly fine with it all-- open to the fact she was at a place where she was willing to admit all that she was. Preparing for work was like any other day, but there was a newly found excitement that there was someone out there, that had touched her, body and soul.  She kept herself in check though, despite this, afraid she’d only jinx it but it wasn’t lost on Penni as the two of them rode to work together that Myrna had a sunnier disposition than usual, one with a more forgiving attitude and less road rage. It was after the third inept driver of Gotham cut Myrna off as they approached school, and the third time Myrna hadn’t uttered a word about the validity of their parentage,  that Penni decided she couldn’t keep her observations to herself.

 

“You know… I always thought Bruce Wayne was a powerful guy-- I just didn’t know he had the, ahem, _power_ to make you a nice person.” She said, Myrna looking over at her friend as they cut up the road to work.  Myrna for all her concentration on driving, hadn’t quite caught what Penni was now currently dishing.

 

“What?” She asked, Penni laughing at her friend.  It was cute when Myrna was twitterpated-- which was such a rare enough occurrence on its own.

 

“Point.  Made.” She said, Myrna rolling her eyes as she realized she was being mocked.

 

“Oh, you’re trying to be clever this morning, that’s always a riot.” She said, Penni pressing her hand over her heart with faux distress.

 

“Oh, no, the evil queen has returned!  A pox upon me, a sorry lout for suggesting you were kind.” She said, Myrna waving in a queenly fashion, the kind that started at the elbow and ended at the wrist.

 

“We are not amused with your attempts at mocking us and sentence you to a hang by your toes until you are reminded of our authority.” She said in her best poncy accent, Penni’s face splitting into a huge smile, peals of laughter filling the car as they pulled into the parking lot of the academy; their counterparts exiting their cars around them as they headed towards another Monday.  Myrna swung her purse and bag full of paperwork over her shoulder, locking the car doors as Penni made her way to the front doors of the academy. Myrna turned to follow her, but stopped as she was struck by how nice of a day it was. They were barely midway through November but the chill that often came with the month was lessened today and the sun wasn’t hiding, warming things for a change.

 

She wondered if she weren’t letting herself get carried away, that maybe she was thinking things were more than they really were and familiar doubts started to claw at the sunny outlook she was having. She shook it off as she saw Penni stop and look for her as she realized her friend wasn’t with her. She continued toward the school, pulling her phone from her coat pocket and quickly typed a good morning to Bruce as she passed through the doorway of the academy.  She wasn’t sure of morning after a weekend of passionate necking, etiquette, but she assumed the two of them had a shared enough for it to be acceptable for her to at least say good morning as unobtrusively as possible.

 

She didn’t have time to wait for a reply as an early morning staff meeting occupied her almost immediately and then another long day of shaping young minds followed quickly after.  It wasn’t until afternoon recess that she even knew the sun was still shining. She walked outside with her students and was happy to find she hadn’t missed it after all. She took a deep breath, the fresh air filling her lungs, refreshing after a long day inside.  She didn’t get to enjoy it long before a kerfuffle in the grassy field beside the playground captured her attention and she saw two boys, surrounded by at least four more, doing their very best to beat each other into the ground. A flash of blonde and Myrna realized one of the boys involved was Thomas Cooper, the son of none other than Martin Cooper, the man who had attacked her over the weekend.  Sighing, Myrna ran across the playground, the group surrounding them scattering in the wind as they saw their school’s headmistress running toward them full speed, none wanting to spend the rest of the afternoon in her office. Myrna grabbed Thomas off the other boy, impressed as one could be given the situation, that he had managed to fell a boy two years older and at least ten pounds heavier than him.

 

Thomas, still enraged at his opponent, continuing to swing his arms and legs at anything that got in his way, even Myrna, landing a solid blow against her side, kicking at her shins until Myrna, wrapping her arms around him took them both to the ground, encompassing him in a bear hug until he was calm.  The other little boy picked himself up, nose bloody and probably going to be nursing a black eye at some point, something Myrna was recently familiar with. His eyes were wide and he was breathing hard from fighting back just as hard as his apparent attacker had him, but he was certainly relieved a grown up had intervened.  Recognizing the little boy now that he wasn’t being pummeled, she jerked her head towards the school, arms still wrapped around Thomas.

 

“Steven, have Mrs. Morgan take you to the nurse to be looked at.” She said, Steven looking perplexed that Miss Swift wasn’t immediately going to dole out punishment to the boy in her arms.

 

“But he…” He started indignantly, though still out of breath, his protestations quieted by a severe look thrown in his direction as Myrna held on to Thomas, willing the boy not to be set off by something else.  Begrudgingly Steven ran toward the teacher he had been told to talk to about getting his wounds attended to, Myrna turning her attention back to the boy in her arms.

 

“We're not having a very good day, are we?” She said after a minute, she could feel the little boy’s heart pounding against her from where he sat.  His face was sweaty and red from his altercation, but she could see beyond all that, the pain in his tear filled eyes as he fought to keep up a tough guy act that most adult men couldn’t manage.  Likely out of necessity, given his father’s propensity for having a temper, Thomas stayed quiet, not answering her, but not resisting her anymore. Myrna tried again, speaking quietly to him.

 

“Thomas, I know you're upset and probably scared about something...” She said, not sure how much he knew about her involvement with his father’s incarceration, but the way he was behaving told her he at least _knew_ his father was incarcerated, “but just because you’re upset doesn’t mean you get to hurt people-- there are better ways to get what you’re feeling, out.” She added, the back of the little boy’s head nodding against her chest as he focused on the grass ahead of them.

 

“I know.” He said, still keeping much close to the vest.  It hurt Myrna’s heart to see someone so young, already so distrusting of those he should be able to go to for help, even her, someone who had always tried to be there for every student in the school, didn’t seem to qualify.

 

“I know you know… I’ve seen what a good kid you can be, Thomas.” She said, watching as his hands balled into fists, resting on his legs.

 

“Talk to me, Thomas… Why are you so angry?” She asked him, the little boy’s mouth clenched tight for a moment before more tears spilled out of his eyes and his voice, cracking as he finally told her what was upsetting him came tumbling out.

 

“They keep telling me I'm going to jail like my dad.” He said, Myrna’s eyes closing as what she had been afraid of was confirmed.  Children could be cruel, whether purposefully or by simply repeating the terrible things they heard their parents say, it didn’t matter.  It wasn’t a complete day until someone managed to say some very nasty things to their classmates.

 

“Who keeps telling you you're going to jail?”

 

“Everyone… Steven.” She said

 

“Well I've never said that, so it can't be everyone, Thomas... So listen closely--” She said bending her head closer to his so she knew he could hear her over the sounds of his classmates at play around them.

 

“What your father has done and will do is on HIM.  Everything you've done and will do is on YOU. You are not your father-- You can be better than him by MILES and I know you'll make better decisions than he ever has, do you hear me?” She said, she could see Thomas straighten up from where he sat, his demeanor changed, her grip on him having loosened as they talked because she knew he was calm and listening.

 

“Yes, Miss Swift.” He answered, he turned, sitting on his knees in front of her now, wiping away the wetness of his tears on his face.  Myrna reached out, wiping away dirt and grass, remnants of his fight, brushing his hair back from where it had plastered against his sweaty head.

 

“I know it's hard, especially if someone says something that hurts, but you can get through this-- You know if  you need me to talk to, you just have to ask.” She said, the little boy nodding, but his head tilted as he thought about eventualities.

 

“What if you're on the other side of the world?” He asked, a concerned look on his face, making Myrna smile that he thought there was a chance of that happening.

 

“Even if I'm on the other side of the world.  No matter where I am, I will be here for you, ok?”

 

“You promise?” He asked, just reminding her just how alone this little person felt in the world.  Myrna stuck up her pinky finger, gesturing for him to do the same.

 

“Dude, I pinky swear-- and that's some for real promising right there!” She said, Thomas looking at her skeptically.  Her eyes widened, her tone playful with him as she put her hand out to him again.

 

“Don't believe me?  It's a legal and binding contract!  You take me to court for breaking a pinky swear and the judge will definitely be on your side.” She said, Thomas finally bringing his own hand up, his pinky joining with hers, a smile breaking across his face as they pulled her hands back, making exploding firework noises in tandem, sealing their promise.

 

“You've got this, Thomas…” She said as she stood up, brushing the grass and dirt off her dress and sticking her hand out for Thomas to take, “but you know there’s going to be consequences for what you did to Steven, right?” She asked, the little boy nodding, some of his earlier smile disappearing as they walked toward the school, the rest of the students having been called to the door a few minutes earlier to get back to class.

 

“I know.” He responded, as he watched his classmates walk back into the school ahead of them, awaiting his punishment.

 

“Where do you think you should start?” Myrna asked, looking down at him as they walked, feet crunching in the dry grass before they hit asphalt.  Thomas thought about it for a moment before he responded.

 

“I should say I’m sorry to Steven, for beating him up.” He said, Myrna giving him a half smile.

 

“I think that’s a good idea.  Why don’t we go do that know and we’ll work on the rest later.” She said, Thomas nodding as they got to the doorway of the school.  She sent Thomas through to the nurse’s office, the boy finding Steven still being cleaned up and hands twisting in his shirt, he apologized to the boy he’d been pounding on ten minutes earlier.  Steven, still smarting from being a second grader bested by a kindergartener, grudgingly accepted the apology, offering his own for saying what he had about Thomas going to jail like his dad, both keeping the conversation short and to the point.  Thanking both boys for talking it out, Myrna left Thomas with the nurse as well, just to make sure he was ok, telling him they would meet again later to discuss what else would be expected of him.

 

Myrna returned to her office, shutting the door and leaning back against it heavily.  Sometimes this job, this mission she had created for herself was the worst. She was surrounded by children who didn’t have the childhood she’d been afforded, many of them like Thomas, with a parent, or parents who weren’t involved in their lives because of the choices they made for themselves.  Thomas Cooper would not be the last child she would work with that would go through something like this and it wouldn’t be the last time she would find herself in her office ready to cry for him because of his situation. She was broken out of her thoughts by commentary coming from the small TV she had in her office; she often left it running in the background as she worked, tuned to one news channel or another; she had neglected to turn it off before leaving for lunch period and now her eyes were drawn to it as she heard the alarmed voices of the anchors currently on her screen.  She saw as the video feed switched back to their live feed, showing the capitol building, dark black smoke billowed out of broken windows, the grounds surrounding it had emergency personnel and civilians alike running, yelling and screaming around in response to whatever had just occurred. Pushing herself off the door she walked towards the screen, it taking her a moment to read the ticker at the bottom of the screen repeating over and over that this was a live look of the aftermath of an explosion that had happened not that long ago in the building.

 

She hadn’t paid too much attention to the news as of late, but she knew that a committee had been meeting about Superman and his involvement in an attack on rebel fighters in Africa.  Today they were supposed to have another hearing and everyone was waiting with bated breath to see if he would come to explain himself. Myrna had thought it laughable that anyone on Capitol Hill truly believed an alien man with seemingly unlimited powers, could ever be beholden to a bunch of bureaucrats who couldn’t even agree on the color of the sky; but it seemed based off what she was hearing from the anchors reporting on the incident, Superman had come and was in the building when the explosion had happened.

 

A few more minutes of watching and she saw the familiar blue and red of his suit flash across the screen as he exited the still smoking building with a bloodied woman in his arms. It seemed he was helping get the injured to safety. Speculation was already being thrown around as to what had happened and if Superman had been complicit in the explosion as he should have been able to see an incendiary device with ease. Myrna scoffed at them for doing what they always did in the news, jump to conclusions before there was evidence. Despite his powers, Superman was still one person, without knowing where he was at the time, without knowing to look for such a thing, who knows if he would have seen anything before it was too late.  Walking around her desk she sat in her chair, processing what was happening. There always seemed to be some tragedy happening anymore. Barely a year or two before the next terrible thing. Whatever the source of this was, it felt terrible that it also felt normal. She heard her phone buzz against the wood top of her desk, looking down to see Bruce had sent her a message.

 

Swiping her phone unlocked, she saw he had sent one in response to her earlier message, wishing her a good morning in response and that he hadn’t enjoyed waking up without her this morning.  Myrna felt a rush of delight that he had missed her at all, having felt similarly when she had woken alone in her own bed. The message after it though, felt different, as he asked to see her that night; it was short, if that was even possible given he tended to err on the side of brevity already, and she wondered if this was how it was always going to be if they continued down this road. One minute feeling like it was the most natural thing in the world for them to be together, the next wondering if all was not what it seemed.  She certainly hoped it was her having gone so long without seeing anyone that made her wary.

 

She responded when she would be done for the day and that she was looking forward to seeing him, setting her phone down and looking back at the TV where more speculation and drama over Superman was unfolding.  She wondered what the world was coming to but didn’t have an answer before there was a knock at her door and she found the school nurse and Thomas waiting for her.

 

If the world was going to hell, all she could do was try to make it a little better by guiding a very lost young person into caring about it.

 

* * *

 

 

As the morning progressed, Bruce remained far more optimistic than he had in a very long time; _still_ questions that had flooded his mind as he prepared his plan for Superman, even though he was waning on going through with it now, had all returned as expected upon preparing for the day and had followed him to the office.  His employees were used to their CEO being stoic at the best of times and blunt to the point of rudeness at the worst. He did his job well, however, and his company continued to remain successful under his leadership; frequent raises or bonuses for jobs well done, charity and partnerships intended to better the world only proved to show Bruce Wayne was tough but fair and more than just a smart businessman.  So when he gave a gruff compliment on someone’s work or ended a meeting a few minutes early for people to get to their lunches, people noticed and wondered (albeit internally), what had happened to their employer to put him in such a decidedly good mood. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, no one complained, but they certainly didn’t allow themselves to get comfortable with it.

 

Bruce’s morning was brightened when his pocket buzzed and he found Myrna had sent him a good morning message, checking in that his weekend had ended well and hoped he had a pleasant day at the office.  He found himself responding almost immediately that the weekend had ended with a vague unpleasantness because he’d had to wake alone. Which wasn’t untrue. Despite having done it for many years and leaving his bed before anyone else, he found himself wishing Myrna had been there for him to wrap in his arms, at least until he _had_ to get out of bed.  Allowing himself the chance to enjoy having someone, who wasn’t a curmudgeonly old British man, checking in on him (which was a lie, because Alfred _didn’t_ check in on him, grown men didn’t need such niceties), Bruce found himself a bit more emotionally generous with his staff, not to the extent anyone might think he had just been diagnosed with a terminal illness, but he didn’t feel the need to be as tough as he normally was.  

 

It was late afternoon when he was in the building’s boardroom with his secretary, Grace, preparing for a meeting with the executive board to go over new proposals for the company; hands in his pockets, back turned to the TVs hanging on the wall, one inevitably set to the stock market, the others on various news stations, the latest question, one Bruce couldn’t deny he also had, was if Superman was going to attend the latest hearing regarding his involvement in the attack in Nairomi that had left a village decimated.  Bruce had just turned away from the screens to complete a thought to Grace who was typing away at her laptop when he heard the voice of Wallace Keefe answering a reporter’s questions. He recognized it because Keefe’s voice was seared into his brain after hearing the man’s tortured screams as he yelled for help to escape the heavy metal beam that had crushed his legs from the knees down. He turned back to find a wheelchair bound Keefe had come to the capitol, apparently intent to face Superman for the crimes he believed the Kryptonian had committed against himself and the rest of Metropolis, two years ago.  

 

“I’ve come here to tell them to wake up!  This is flesh and blood, uh he, he’s delivered a war here.  And _this_ , this is what war looks like,” he said motioning down to his legs, the camera panning down to show his suit pant legs tucked up against what remained of his knees,  “I have nothing.” He added, Bruce feeling a familiar fire igniting in his belly again as he listened in disbelief. The reporter responded, trying to carefully craft her response to play devil’s advocate.

 

“There are plenty of people sir, who would say he’s their hero.” She said, Keefe growing enraged at the thought of a defense for someone he felt was so fully at fault for ruining his life and the lives of others.

 

“He is **NOT** a hero!” Keefe spat out, the word practically choking him as he spoke of a creature he believed couldn’t have been less deserving of the title.  Eyes narrowing as he considered what he was hearing, he gave Grace an order, voice steely, any good humor he might have had gone.

 

“Grace, can you get Greg up here please.  Right now.” He said, Greg one of his account managers charged with maintaining the fund Wayne Enterprises had created shortly after the attack on Metropolis to assist victims, like Keefe, in getting their lives back on track.  It only took Greg a few minutes to gather the paperwork he needed once Mr. Wayne had made it clear something was amiss with a program he was responsible for. As he walked into the boardroom, he could see Mr. Wayne’s face was set in a way that made it clear he was less than pleased with discovering his fund was not doing the job intended, especially for a past employee like Keefe.  Bruce turning toward him, pointing at the screen where Wallace Keefe was being interviewed further, demanding to know why such a failure had occurred on their watch.

 

“Greg, why hasn’t he been getting our checks?” He said in a tone that would set necks shivering as they headed for the chopping block.

 

“He is, Mr. Wayne.  He gets a check from the victim’s fund every month…” He said setting the stack of returned checks and their corresponding stubs and letters before his employer, “He returns them.” He finished, Bruce grabbing the neatly organized papers as he saw angry red pen across the face of his attempts to help right a wrong he didn’t create.  He felt his blood begin to boil as he read the notes intended for him, but had never seen, unaware that the angry scrawls and drawings practically incised on the paper had even existed.

 

_Bruce Wayne: Open Your Eyes_

_B. Wayne, I am your ghost_

_B. Wayne won’t WIN!_

 

He read the words, each one branding him a  blind traitor when he had been in agreement with Keefe this whole time, that Superman was a threat.

 

_Bruce, NO TRUCE!_

_Wayne, I haunt you_

_Bruce Wayne= Blind_

 

“Jesus.” Bruce growled, turning some of that ire to Greg, the man gulping at the look, knowing he wouldn’t have a good answer for the question that was coming.

 

“Why haven’t I seen this?” Bruce demanded to know as he tossed the remainder of the stack of returned checks back on the desk, angry with his staff for not sharing this with him, angry that Keefe clearly felt he had been abandoned by his ex-employer and angry with himself for faltering in thinking that perhaps he wasn’t the one who should be going after this alien terrorist.  Meekly, Greg nodded in agreement that he had missed a step here, assuring as best he could that there would be answers.

 

“I’m sorry, I’ll get to the bottom of it.” He said shortly, turning and rushing from the room to figure out where the bottom of that was and if he would be hanging from his own tie when he found it.  Bruce crossed an arm over his chest, his other hand coming to his face as rubbed his eyes, already tense and angry, only to see all the news stations his TVs were currently running, had focused above the roof of the capitol, where Superman hung in the sky like a blue and red, Christmas tree topper.  Bruce’s eyes narrowed as he watched Kryptonian hang in the air for a few more seconds, the sounds of the crowd pressing against the gates D.C. police had set up to contain them, some screaming with joy at the sight of the alien man, others screaming for him to leave and never return. Bruce was inclined to agree with the latter as Superman, through the magic of his alien power let himself drop deftly to the ground, the cameras picking up the thud and quake of the ground as he did.  He entered the capitol building, the screaming hordes to his back as he joined the nation’s leaders and their judgments.

 

Bruce watched as the cameras followed Superman down the marble hallways, long red cape billowing behind him.  It amazed Bruce how human this Kryptonian looked, all these years passing for one, only being revealed for what he was by his own people two years ago.  Sifting through over thirty years of news and historical data, Bruce had only found a few mentions of a wandering man who had been said to have done miraculous things, lifting burning oil rigs off trapped riggers and saving cats out of trees while seemingly levitating, but nothing concrete, witnesses having been dismissed as too young, too old, too drunk or too crazy to be believed.  Bruce, of course, was discerning enough to put the stories together, especially now that Superman was openly interfering in the everyday occurrences of the planet and his powers were on display on a recurring basis. His thoughts were interrupted as Greg returned, another envelope in his hand, the man extending his arm to give it to Bruce.

 

“Another one came this morning Mr. Wayne.” He said, nearly losing his fingerprints as it was pulled from his grip with annoyance.  Greg backed away and left the room quickly, Bruce looking down at the window of the envelope and seeing the corner of what appeared to be a news clipping and more of that now familiar red pen.  He turned it over to rip open the back, only to have his eyes drawn back to the screens before him, Superman having arrived where the committee was meeting, all present watching him as he entered the room, taking his place before the lectern prepared for speakers, standing quietly before Senator Finch and the others.  Bruce watched as she welcomed Wallace Keefe and thanked him for coming before them, she proceeded to pontificate on the importance of truth and its necessity in these dire circumstances, she continued but seemed to stumble as something on the desk before her caught her attention. She attempted to capture her thoughts but her inability to complete her sentences drew everyone’s attention as she adjusted something on her desk and then looked around the room for a moment.  Bruce noted Superman following her gaze but within that moment, everyone’s screens erupted with fire lapping at the lenses of the cameras bringing them their live looks before they went black, signals lost from inside the capitol. Those having cut to an outside shot capturing the moment from a different perspective as glass shattered, smoke and flames bursting from the broken windows and ear splitting explosion and the sounds of alarms going off catching everyone with shock.

 

It took Bruce a moment to look away from the screen, horror shooting through him as he realized what had just happened and the inevitable body count they would now be looking at.  Tearing his eyes away from the unfolding emergency, Bruce ripped the envelope open, pulling its contents out to find a half a page article on the destruction of the Wayne Financial building in Metropolis, a black and white photo of his destroyed building and headline screaming of “Dozens Dead” interrupted by a roughly drawn photo of the capitol, a blazing inferno licking from its windows, angrily scribbled words telling Bruce he had let his family die a near real punch in the gut for him.  Fingers clenching against the edges of the article, Bruce raised his head slowly to look back at the real inferno coming from the capitol building. Any thought he could walk away from this now, any thought that Superman might be allowed to live, any thought he could be happy leaving it alone to be with Myrna was gone. This had to end and it had to end now, by any means necessary.

 

Superman was a dead man.


	16. I Could Say Goodbye A Thousand Times and It Wouldn't Be Enough...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the attack on the Capitol building, Bruce's resolve to end Superman has come to a head. He desperately wants to be with Myrna and be the man she sees but he also can't bear the thought of doing nothing and letting Superman take her from him when he inevitably destroys the planet. So Bruce must make a choice-- Be Batman and end Superman before he ends the world, or be Bruce Wayne and watch Myrna die because of his inaction.
> 
> It's time to say goodbye...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long awaited update, once again! We are winding down on this story, but I certainly hope you're still enjoying it, your comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!
> 
> I've updated my song list:
> 
> Wicked Game by Ursine Vulpine feat. Annaca ---> Especially true now  
> Time by 2Cellos  
> Kingdom Come by Demi Levato   
> Apocalypse by Jackie Evancho  
> Have You Ever Been in Love by Jackie Evancho  
> Where Do We Go Lindsey Stirling feat Carah Faye  
> No One But You-- Goat Rodeo

Myrna unlocked the door to her house, stepping through and dropping her things on the couch as she kicked off her boots and hung her coat up on the rack by the door.  She was glad to be home, glad to be away from work and the news and everything that had tarnished an otherwise decent day. Penni had been picked up from work by Dr. Ennis, the two of them looking forward to another evening out, Penni having hurriedly changed in Myrna’s office after all the kids were gone for the day; insisting Myrna be honest if the outfit was a classy sexy or ho-bag sexy.  Reassuring her best friend it was a classy sexy and helping her with final adjustments before Ennis arrived and whisked her away to what Myrna hoped was a delightful evening. It gave her the chance to drive home in relative peace, no one needing her opinion or having an opinion or needing her to be there for them. She felt the day roll off her as she rubbed her neck with one hand and freed her hair from her now repaired and once more perfect dragonfly clip with the other.  She looked down at it, smiling at the thought Bruce had not only found it, but had cared enough to have it fixed.

 

She hadn’t heard back from him since she had responded to his last text, the sun was still out, though the beginnings of a sunset were on their way, they had plenty of time if he was wanting to see her and not having Penni home or plans at the moment, meant she could take a second to herself.  Letting the dogs out in the yard, Myrna grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, stood outside and watched them as they rough and tumbled with each other; occasionally coming up to her with things for her to throw or for petting, but otherwise content to be out of the house and enjoying the beginnings of the evening.  She let the chilly air push her now loose hair around, the skin left uncovered to the elements reacting to the cold brushing against it. Her attention was grabbed when all three dogs immediately shot for the front gate, barking for a moment, then going quiet, she could see from where she stood on the back deck they were all still wagging, but she didn’t know what they were looking at.  Maybe Penni had forgotten something and needed to stop by the house but she didn’t normally come in through the back. Stepping down the stairs, bare toes curling against cold concrete of the sidewalk, Myrna laughed at the wagging behinds of her dogs, all excitedly sniffing at the gate.

 

“What did you guys find?  Did a rabbit get through the--” She stopped short when she realized Bruce was at the gate, the dogs eagerly trying to get his attention.  It was strange for them not to be barking, since he had only been in the house once and had never met any of them, but she wondered, knowing Bruce, if he had a gadget that kept dogs from barking at him as he prowled Gotham looking for villains. If he did, she wanted one, because that was miracle level work with these three.   Either way, their reaction was promising, since she rarely trusted anyone her dogs didn’t. She felt her face break into a smile and the side of her that desperately didn’t want to seem like a needy, clingy idiot gave a good uppercut to the side of her that melted into an obnoxious puddle of goo every time she saw him.

 

“Bruce, I wasn’t expecting you here.” She said brightly, shooing the dogs back and opening the gate for him.  He stepped through to the backyard, giving a scratch behind the ears to Hank, her 125 pound Great Dane. A moment of panic set in for Myrna as she realized that out of all three dogs that had to introduce themselves to a man who was wearing a suit that no doubt cost more than her house, car and student loan payments combined, it had to be the one who had zero problem wiping his drooly face on the nearest pant legs he could locate.

 

“Oh, uh, let me get him out of your way.” She said grabbing Hank’s collar and pulling him toward the house and a room with a door to keep him away from, Armani, Gabbana, Bespoke, or whoever Bruce had on.  Bruce wondered why she seemed nervous again, though she handled the giant, horse of a dog with surprising ease through the door, calling for Jasmine and Daisey, the other two in the yard, who looked at Bruce like he had betrayed them, cutting their playtime short for no good reason.  They’d have to get in line, they weren’t the only ones who thought he had failed them today.

 

“There’s no need to kick them out of their yard, I didn’t tell you I was coming.” He said, but Myrna had already shoved the dogs into the spare bedroom, Hank actually satisfied with this turn of events because it meant he got to sleep on the bed in there without getting in trouble, doing so with a happy sigh as the other two dropped to the floor with less than subtle huffs escaping them.  She tossed some of their squeaky toys and chew bones strewn in the hallway from earlier in with them to keep them occupied as she closed the door.

 

“Trust me, your dry cleaner will thank me if I keep him away from that nice suit of yours…” She said as Bruce waited in the living room just up the hall, recalling many a time she had wondered what had ever possessed her to get a dog that produced so much drool.  But then he’d go and act adorable and she forgot all about that detail. She came back to the living room to find Bruce looking at the photos hanging on the wall. Some were of Penni and Myrna on short trips and girl’s night out excursions, others were of Penni and Myrna’s families respectively. He hadn’t looked at her yet, but from where she stood, she could see the way he stared at those photos, plaintive and even yearning, as though he had no such photos in his own home. Which, now that she thought about it, she could say with certainty, he didn’t.

 

She wanted to ask him so many questions right now, something about that look, it scared her. Like he had given up, but on what and why she couldn’t tell, she just didn’t know how to ask. He was different than when she had last seen him, more like when they had first met, more closed off and hard to read.  She really didn’t want to think about if it was because of her. She could say with certainty, she just hadn’t had time today to do anything to make him regret being involved with her, but it seemed like Bruce Wayne could be mercurial about how he felt about air, so who could say but him if she had. If that were the case, she would have words for him on that.  She walked up to him as he stared at a photo of Myrna with her parents at Yellowstone, a trip they had taken after Myrna’s recovery and before she had moved to Gotham. Yellowstone had always been on her bucket list and since she had almost kicked the bucket after the attack on Metropolis, she decided it had been time to see a few of the places on that list sooner, rather than later.  Unfortunately she hadn’t been able to take many more trips after the school had opened, but she planned on getting back to it, maybe when things were more settled.

 

He studied that photograph as though it were the most important thing in the world.  The three of them smiling, huddled around the camera as Myrna extended her arm to get them all in frame as they timed it to capture the eruption at Old Faithful, a cascade of rainbows behind them as light bounced off the geyser’s spray of water.  They were a family, happy and together, experiencing life that Bruce, for all his billions, charity and connections hadn’t really managed because of a night over thirty years ago driving him to focus on a single mission for Gotham. This is why he had to end Superman-- to protect not only the world, but Myrna and her family, those like her, who just wanted to get through the day and see their families again, not having to worry about the sky being dropped on them because of an alien like Superman who could destroy them with next to no effort.

 

It meant a sacrifice on his part, one that would likely be final; because despite her incredible ability to forgive even the worst; if he survived-- if being the operative term, _if_ he survived this battle with Superman, she would see he wasn’t the man she thought he was.  That he _was_ a killer and forgiveness wasn’t something he could manage as easily as she could.  His purpose had always been to rid Gotham of the disease of crime and terror, but after twenty years he had found he had lost far too much to be able to forgive those who had wronged him.  He had marked men, obviously terrible men, but men just the same with his calling card and left them to be destroyed by their own. He may not have held the weapons that killed them, he may not have struck the final blow, but his hands weren’t clean of it.  His whole being when he was Batman was payback for Joe Chill pulling that trigger and ending his life as he knew it right before his eyes. The battle would never be over and even the remote possibility of surviving Superman would leave him falling short of her expectations of what kind man she believed she knew.

 

He felt a touch against his still coat covered arm, he hadn’t taken it off since this afternoon, when he had left the office early and went to the glass house, the stack of returned and defaced checks now piled on his table, flicking on the TV hanging opposite it, a half finished glass of bourbon sitting near it as the news continuing to speculate as the smoldering capitol was still being worked on by emergency personnel. He had to wait for the darkness to shroud himself in before he could get what he needed from LexCorp, normally he would have no problem waiting, preparing himself for the inevitable raid on the corporation that held his prize, but he knew there was a far more worthwhile prize in Gotham and he wanted her just as badly.  So he had gone, knowing full well it would likely be the last time he’d have the chance to hold her and now here he was, standing in her living room, coat still on as he stared at photos of a family, the likes of which he’d never be a part of.

 

He turned to look at her, there was a look of confused worry that she was trying to hide.  She had a knack for knowing when something wasn’t right but even now, after everything, she was unsure she should ask him.  He smiled at her, even though it didn’t reach his eyes in attempt to assure her he was fine, her hand still resting lightly against his arm, but it felt like her touch was burning a hole through to his skin.  As expected she didn’t believe his face and moved closer to him, hand coming to rest over his heart as though she were a living polygraph, checking for a lie.

 

“Is everything ok?” She asked, Bruce nodding and capturing the hand on his chest with his own, lifting it up to kiss her palm but a sudden subconscious fear that maybe she would be able to tell he was lying.

 

“I’m fine, it’s just been a long day, the news out of D.C. has put us into a tight corner.” He said, Myrna thinking about what she had seen on the news; remembering that Bruce’s name had come up because the man who was suspected of the explosion at the capitol had been a former employee of his.  Even as indirectly as it was, of course the news would be looking for a juicy tidbit about how Bruce and his company hadn’t known the man was going to be a danger to himself and others when he was no longer even employed with them.

 

“Wallace Keefe?” she asked, Bruce nodding even though the very name gnawed at him.

 

“We have to get ahead of all of these reports, might even have to show we were trying to help him but he didn’t want it-- it’s a mess, not something anyone wants to deal with right now.” He said, he wasn’t lying, he had gotten messages from their PR team asking his opinion on statements he approved of them sharing for the inevitable onslaught of media wanting to hear from him about his now employee turned terrorist, ex or otherwise.  He wasn’t as fazed about it as he was letting on, what he was truly worried about had nothing to do with news reports or optics. He found himself reaching for Myrna, the move as natural as though he’d been doing it for years, his hands sliding around her waist and pulling her toward him. He saw her wince, lifting his hands in retreat, thinking he had hurt her.

 

“Damn it!” She said softly, “I didn’t think he hit me that hard.” She said, Bruce thinking back on all of the injuries he was aware of from her run in with Martin Cooper and not remembering any on her sides, despite the cretin’s best efforts and _he_ certainly hadn’t left any marks, nor would he, when she was with him.

 

“From the weekend?” He asked, concerned, as Myrna pulled up the skirt of her dress, her legging waistband in the way as as she pushed it down enough to see a decently sized bruise forming next to the scar on her side.  She shook her head no, that it hadn’t been from her excursion with the elder Cooper, but she seemed to be bruising like a peach now.

 

“No,” she said with a sigh as she let her dress drop again, smoothing it down over her hip, “just a little boy who desperately doesn’t want to be his father.” She said, Bruce making the connection almost instantly.

 

“Cooper’s son did this?” he asked, throat going tight as Myrna hesitantly nodded.

 

“He got into a fight with another boy, I broke it up, he swung and he missed.” She said, Bruce having difficulty staying calm at the thought.

 

“Obviously he didn’t-- Jesus, Myrna-- How much abuse do you have to take from this family?” he asked, though it wasn’t just the family in question, but everything she had gone through thus far.  How much did she have to go through because of people like Cooper and Superman. He must have said it more angrily than he had intended because Myrna’s eyes changed from concern for him to anger.

 

“That little boy has been through more than anyone his age should.  His father’s a deadbeat, his mother’s a mouse and he has no one to care about him but me.” She corrected him, knowing that of all people who should understand the trauma and anger Thomas felt, it was Bruce, “If I have to get a little bruised to help him see he can be so much more than his circumstances, before he pounds another kid into the ground, then I guess I’m just going to have to suck it up, aren’t I?” She said, her heart pounding with the adrenaline rushing through her at having to explain this to him.  Again. Had she imagined what she had told him in the alley? Had she talked some other man dressed as a bat down? She was having a hard time even looking at him at the moment, so she turned, not having anywhere to go even though it was her own house, intending on walking away when she felt Bruce’s arms wrap around her before she could, pulling her toward him again until they were chest to chest, Myrna’s arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he kissed her, hard but without anger or force.

 

“I’m sorry.” He said against her mouth, before moving his lips down her chin and neck, until he reached the ridge of her chest over her heart, repeating his apology against her skin again and again.  The way he held her, the way he touched her, a man who didn’t apologize, apologizing-- and it didn’t feel like he was apologizing just for what he had said. Myrna’s hands lifted, coming to rest at the back of his head, holding him to her.

 

“Bruce, what’s going on?” She asked him, hoping she could wrestle an answer from him, she knew there was more, he just wasn’t being forthcoming. When he didn’t respond, she lifted his face so they were eye to eye, looking for an answer there as her hands cupped his jaw.  Bruce looked at her, this woman he was never supposed to meet, that he had never intended care for, that he didn’t want to be without, she was more than he’d ever needed and yet he couldn’t have her when the threat of Superman loomed over them. He never answered her, she wouldn’t understand and she couldn’t stop him anyway.  He took her hands from his face, holding them against his chest as he leaned forward, capturing her mouth again. Myrna let her questions go as he did, not protesting as he let go of her hands, his own working their way around her waist again. When Bruce kissed her, she lost herself in him, wanting to know only the feel of his lips on hers, his demanding entry into the cavern of her mouth and exploration when he did.

 

Myrna’s fingers dug into the fabric of his coat as he kissed her deeply, nearly breathless when he pulled back, Myrna following his gaze as he looked up the stairs that led to her bedroom on the second floor. Looking back at him, she took a step away from him, holding out her hand. He took it, watching and following her as she led the way.  Her room was exactly as he expected, he thought as she opened the door, letting him step through ahead of her. It was cozy but large enough to house a queen size bed clothed in a soft gray duvet, and a variety of comfy pillows. A small mirrored vanity across from it, littered with Myrna’s hairbrushes and toiletries, the matching seat tucked halfway under it with a pretty flowered nightie that he wished he’d be able to see on her sometime, tossed across it from she  she had changed this morning. Her closet door hung open a few inches, just enough to see her impressive collection of dresses, including the sparkle of a particular beaded number he had seen not long ago, though it felt like a lifetime. The early evening light trickled in through the window on the far wall, shining rainbow patterns across more photos of her family and travels hanging around the room; a small stuffed chair sat beneath it, a stack of books piled beside it. Everything in here was Myrna, every detail lived in and comfortable. He couldn’t even say that of his own home, where everything was functional and had a purpose, otherwise there was no point in having it.  It was as welcoming and comfortable as she was.

 

The click of the door shutting brought him back to attention as Myrna leaned against it. He turned to look at her from where he stood and marveled at her again, her hair loose around her shoulders as he always enjoyed seeing it, Myrna pushing it back as she looked down at the floor, wondering about his assessment of her tiny part of the world, none of which mattered to him as his mind yelled for him to go to her. Myrna looked back up in time to see Bruce coming towards her again, the look in his eyes sent a shiver down her back, but she didn’t have time to think about it as he overtook her, pressing her against the door, his hands roaming over her still clothed body but it felt as though she were bare to him already.  He showered her in kisses, against her mouth and neck, pushing the fabric of her dress off her shoulders so he could kiss her there too. Myrna felt her chest tighten as she fought for breath, his touch making her forget how to do such a natural thing.

 

She pushed his coat off into a pile on the floor, fingers fighting with the buttons of his suit coat, so many layers fighting her ability to touch him as he was her, but before long, they had both managed to get enough off for themselves to be satisfied for now. Bruce picked Myrna up and carried her to her bed, sitting down so she was straddling his lap. He rubbed her back, fingers rasping along the lace of her bra as he slid them up her soft skin, Myrna’s hands against his chest, following the familiar line of his body. She’d seen all of him several times over in the last few days, but even so, she still found herself drawn to every detail of him. One of Bruce’s hands finally slid over her shoulders until his fingers grazed the edge of her face, the other pulled her closer, their hearts beating together they were pressed so tightly against one another.  Their eyes met, Bruce kissing her face, her throat, burying his face into the crook of her neck when she heard his voice, rumbling against her skin.

 

“Do you believe I wanted you from the second I saw you?” He asked, pulling his head back, Myrna giving him her usual half smile that told him she’d have a sassy response.

 

“Of course not.” She said as she pushed her fingers through his hair, admiring the view of his graying temples and the warmth of his skin against hers. He wasn’t surprised by her answer, but figured she’d be surprised by his.

 

“You’re right, I didn’t—“ he said, Myrna keeping her face placid, waiting to see if there was more to this sentence or if he was taking the scenic route to the couch.  He remained serious as leaned forward to kiss her again, “I didn’t even know you existed but you were everything I didn’t know I wanted.” He said, Myrna definitely fighting the surprise that accompanied her realization of what he was saying and losing before she threw her arms around his neck once more, Bruce grabbing her tightly and turning them so he was above her.

 

He didn’t know why he had said it, he could want her all he dared to, cared for her; at this point, would do anything for her, but after all was said and done, he wouldn’t have the right to her at all.  If he was even still alive. But perhaps it was because he might be that he felt compelled to tell her when there was a strong chance might not have another opportunity to. He took a moment to watch her from where she lay, meeting her gaze as she ran her hand lazily up and down his arm.

 

“Do you trust me?” He finally asked, yet another thing he couldn’t fathom why he asked out loud, even though he knew he was doing everything he could to prove himself wrong that she would understand, when it finally came down to it, why things would end up the way they were after it was all said and done.  Even though he _knew_ full well, that the  sliver of hope he held that she wouldn’t think differently of him if he managed to make it was tiny at best.  Myrna, as she let her fingers run up the lines of his bicep and back down as she watched him almost chided him at first for what felt like such a ridiculous question; wanting to remind him that she had allowed him her body and entrusted him with details of her life that a lifetime of friendship had afforded Penni or her parents, but certainly no one else.  However, she looked at him, she realized there was more to his question, not just what they shared intimately. She could disagree with him on how he handled criminals or even some of his more pessimistic outlooks on life and the world, but she realized many of those things weren’t enough to quell how she felt and that there were very few people in the world that she would trust more than Bruce Wayne.  She nodded, quiet at first as she slid her hands up his neck to direct his lips down to hers.

 

“More than you know.” She whispered against him as she finally claimed her kiss.  Bruce hadn’t truly prepared himself for how much he needed to hear her say that, a small weight lifting as his kiss deepened immediately upon touching her, almost frantic now to be united with her.  Myrna obliging as Bruce took care of the last vestiges of clothing between them, wrapping her legs around him, more than ready for him as her body reacted far more powerfully to him than the one other person she had ever allowed this with.  Bruce, feeling similarly, pressed himself into her, both of them letting out relieved sighs, a need being fulfilled for them both. Myrna’s arms tightened around him, fingers digging into the taught muscles of his back as he began a pace that he had always seemed to hold back from the other times they had been together.

 

There was no complaint from her, the feeling only enhancing the delight she felt from Bruce’s hands bracing himself above her, the weight of his chest against her own, feeling him move against her, in her, with her making her blood rush through her. With every stroke, every push and pull, it became more difficult for them to contain their cries of ecstasy.  Bruce’s head fell back as Myrna’s fingers left trails across his back as she clung to him, barely holding on as he moved against her. The feel of her, that alone could sustain him forever. This woman from of nowhere, never expecting her, not looking for her, but now that he had her, he wanted all of her; needed her in a way he had told himself he didn’t need anyone.  As much as it satisfied him, it also infuriated him to lose that practiced, familiar control; so carefully designed to steer him away from this very moment. To protect himself and the unsuspecting from falling victim to something so vulnerable as this. So they… But really _he_ would never know the pain of losing them when he inevitably had to give them up for the greater good.

 

How dare she make him feel this way, loved and wanted and needed. How could she do that, how did she have that power?  He knew he was asking to distract from the fact he’d allowed it, that he was the one who couldn’t let her go. He leaned his head down as he felt her hands come to rest at his sides. Letting his mouth drag along her collarbone and neck until his lips reached her ear.

 

“Turn over.” He told her, no regret in the order he had given her, Myrna’s eyes opening wider at the sound of his commanding voice. Bruce had always been take charge, she had no problem with that, but he hadn’t been that way when they made love before— even so, as surprising as it was. Myrna felt a pleasured shiver fly down her spine as she complied. She cried out as he set the pace again, it was harder and deeper and she couldn’t help but match him as he moved in her. She knew from the way he was taking charge of her, the power behind his body as he leaned over her, she knew it was because her.  She knew every fiber of his being told her they shouldn’t be together because of his mission as Batman. That he had to remain alone and uncaring because it was safest for both of them. Myrna knew there was a fight in him to be smarter than this and he was losing it. The fire in his belly matching hers.  Myrna was breathless as he resumed his claim on her, moving hard and fast; his hands gripped her hips as he towered over her, guiding her back on him, over and over again, Myrna moving her thighs apart to allow him deeper. She felt his hands explore her at will, hands sliding up her back and around her sides, touching her and pleasing her as he went.  Myrna savoring the feeling of his skin on her as he leaned over her, she couldn’t get enough of the feeling of the weight of his broad chest against her.

 

“I want to see you lose control, Myrna-- Like you make me lose control.” He said, his words punctuated with every move against her.  Myrna found it funny, though not in anyway she would admit to him that he had any belief she was afraid of losing control to him. There were things in life that she had to maintain such a thing for; her work, for example-- but this, in these moments when they were together, she would never be afraid to let him lead her to the happiness he did, both physical and otherwise.  It was Bruce’s own desire to remain staunchly in control of every moment, of every thought, every move because so frequently if he didn’t, could mean a fatal misstep. She understood that and she would give him anything he wanted right now to help him keep some semblance of it. She didn’t hold back this time, making sure he knew, she was fresh out of control with him. They both reached that glorious precipice, Bruce turning to sit back, Myrna straddling him once more, arms around him as he watched her, her body tensing around him as he made sure she reach the release he so needed her to have; when it arrived, his normally reserved and quiet Myrna let out a cry that so encompassed what she was feeling that it made Bruce join her shortly after.  The two of them coming down from their high together. Always together.

 

At least for now.

 

Myrna pushed Bruce back until his head landed against her pillows, taking a moment to look at him from where she was above him, she had had this view many times before tonight but she found she couldn’t get enough of it.  There were lots of things she wanted to say, but wasn’t sure she should say them just yet. They were still very different, which wasn’t inherently wrong, but it still made things feel difficult, there was a right and a wrong to move forward and she wasn’t always sure of the right way.  She also felt, that something was different about tonight, she wasn’t sure what or why, but she could feel it was different. Myrna slid her hands across his chest until one covered the spot where his heart was located. She imagined the beat contained in him matched hers and it was reassuring, even if it was only a hope.  Bruce took her hands in his, fingers entwining with hers, he wanted this to last, he wished it could last and he wasn’t a man who wished for anything. All those things he had hoped in the last few days, all the futures he had imagined, it was starting to drift away, though everything he had wanted it to stay.

 

“What?” he asked her, the look on her face making him wonder if she knew something. She had figured out so much about him already that it wouldn’t surprise him if she could see right through him now. She was quiet, looking at their hands until Bruce finally pulled her down beside him, tucking her in beside him, her head resting on his chest.

 

“I think this might be my favorite part.” He said, Myrna looking up at him, some surprise on her face.

 

“Oh really?” She asked, Bruce smiling at her teasingly.

 

“Well, the other parts are nice too…” He added, Myrna rolling her eyes at him. “But this… This is real.” He added, her face reserved, even though internally she was screaming he was right.  She was hoping if he was willing to say this, maybe he would say something that would explain why she couldn’t shake this feeling she had. She felt as he let one hand drift down her back, rubbing gently against her skin, the feeling soothing, the other hand taking hers from where it rested against his chest.

 

“Did you think this would happen?” Myrna asked as she watched her hand engulfed in his.  Bruce following her gaze and questioning back.

 

“Tonight?  I mean… I won’t say I wasn’t hoping it would…” he started, but Myrna shook her head against his chest, stopping him.

 

“I meant this, the two of us…” she clarified, she didn’t know why she was pushing, she didn’t know why she was so anxious to hear him say something reassuring. He was silent for a moment, his fingers going still against her back. She felt her chest tightening with every second until he spoke again.

 

“No… Myrna… I didn’t.” He said, quickly letting go of her hand on his chest so he could tip her face up to make eye contact, “I wasn’t looking for you, Myrna. Someone like me doesn’t look for a woman like you—“ Myrna starting to regret asking, “because someone like me doesn’t deserve someone like you.” He said, Myrna lifting herself up from where she was tucked beside him.

 

“Bull.” She said, leaning down, her long hair forming an auburn waterfall around them as she kissed that particular lie away. He wished she were right in her belief that he wasn’t going to do something to prove her wrong and soon. However in the right he may be about Superman, he would be exactly what she didn’t believe he was already.  He didn’t want to see her face when she realized it, he wanted to see her as she was now, content and happy and his. He let himself rest, knowing he’d need it for when he raided LexCorp once he had the cover of darkness on his side. Pulling Myrna to him again, the warmth of her skin against his lulling him to sleep.

 

It was dark when he woke again, eyes adjusting to the dark he saw it was late enough for him to prepare and obtain his prize, though the only one he wanted was still currently next to him. He turned to look at her, the soft glow of the moon through the window beside her bed lighting up her pale skin and dark red hair. She lay there, her hand had left his chest, tucked up against her face now, the other arm dropped across her hip.

 

She was a sight to behold and he beheld her as long as he could until he knew if he waited any longer he would never be able to leave.  He reached out and pushed her hair back from her face, the tresses soft between his fingers. He would have to remember the scent of her hair and the softness of it, unlikely as it was he’d ever have the opportunity again. He stroked her face gently, careful to keep from waking her.  Finally, he moved quietly and as stealthily as possible out of her bed, pulling on his clothes and looked down upon her once more.

 

“Goodbye, Myrna.” He said without a sound and he left, disappearing into the night, to LexCorp and his mission to destroy Superman. He couldn't look back now, everything was in motion and nothing couldn’t stop it.  Not even Myrna.


	17. Is This Justice?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred had served the Wayne family faithfully for many years before Bruce was born and he has served it faithfully ever since, watching Bruce spiral into a rage toward the Kryptonian visitor has struck a fear in him he's not used to having. He had hope when Master Wayne met Myrna, but now the fear he is walking away from a chance at happiness for almost certain doom is beginning to be too much for the old Brit to bear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: IN CASE YOU READ THIS CHAPTER ALREADY, I ADDED MORE UNEXPECTEDLY. I DIDN'T LIKE WHERE IT ENDED SO I WROTE MORE. PLEASE READ IT SO YOU DON'T MISS IT WHEN CHAPTER 18 COMES.
> 
> So even though I have a fairly good idea of the timeline from BvS, I wasn't sure how to drag it out much longer, so I cut it down by a day, I'm sure you'd all have noticed if I hadn't said anything, right? Anyway, we are circling the end of the line here, I hope you've been enjoying!

When Master and Mistress Wayne had first brought their newborn son, Bruce, home to the manor, Alfred had only been as delighted as a bachelor with no paternal aspirations of his own could manage. He’d had no interest in knowing the boy more than his role in the service of the Wayne family required, preparing himself for the inevitable mess and disruption a child created when they invaded a home. He was a seasoned but still much younger man then and therefore under the impression he knew everything he needed to about life and none of it included an infant.

 

What Alfred was quick to realize after this ignorant assumption, was how entirely wrong he was.

 

When Master Wayne had laid the newest Wayne in Alfred’s arms and asked him to be his only son’s guardian were anything to happen to he or his wife, Martha, Alfred had agreed with no hesitation. At first because of his loyalty and duty to the elder Wayne, but as he held the tiny child, looking into his dark eyes, the tiniest wisps of hair curling around his brow and the short-lived innocence in his countenance; Alfred knew that loyalty was now directed to this infant cradled in his arms.

 

From that moment on, he took his duty to his charge as seriously as he had any operation he’d been assigned as a soldier. Guiding him in the ways of being a man and gentleman in tandem with the boy’s parents.  Staying with the boy when Thomas and Martha Wayne had to don their roles as Gotham’s most beloved philanthropists or some other very important event called them away. Always offering Bruce advice and discipline when sharing his parents’ attention was too much.

 

The night Alfred received the call from Gotham PD that Master Wayne and his beloved wife had been murdered, his first thought immediately flew to young Master Bruce and if the now ten year old boy was alright.  It had taken less than those ten years for Alfred to feel a fatherly connection to Bruce and the thought of losing a child who if not by blood but by bond had become as much his son as though he _were_ his own had caused his very heart to stop beating.  When the officer he had been speaking to assured him Bruce was alive and unharmed, but in deep shock from witnessing the brutal murders of his parents, Alfred’s reaction was one mixed of relief and sorrow that someone so young would have to bear this terrible thing for the rest of his days.  In that moment, as he rushed from the manor to bring Bruce home, Alfred had prayed for the first time in his life, that he could switch places with the boy. That he would be the one to carry those images and grief, not Bruce, but unfortunately, that’s not how the world worked and all Alfred could do was support the boy made young man by his circumstances.

 

When Bruce had first started down his journey to become the Batman, Alfred had been resistant, despite the fact Bruce had reached the age he could make decisions for himself, no longer needing Alfred to guide him the way he had when he was child.  Alfred grudgingly admitted this was because he cared for Bruce deeply and simply wanted him to stay alive when he appeared so recklessly willing to lose his life to the thugs of Gotham. Over time, however, Bruce had proven himself a formidable opponent to the criminals he fought and Alfred, though still wary of this crusade became a willing participant in helping Bruce perfect his persona, skills and technology as he fought for Gotham.  Before Alfred had even realized it, twenty years and many close calls had passed and he found his barbs at Bruce about his near death inducing missions, lack of romantic life and in turn lack of heir had come full circle and it was no longer in jest but in serious concern that Bruce was lacking something in life that Alfred, as a friend, mentor and father, felt he should have. Watching Bruce bring home vapid, selfish and generally empty-headed women who depended far too much on their looks than their intelligence for survival, was tiresome for Alfred; knowing full well that Bruce did it to fulfill a physical need while not being weighed down with emotional ones, something that as a now aging soldier and continued bachelor, tasked with raising a son not his own, Alfred feared was his own doing.

 

So when Bruce had first uttered the name Myrna Swift, he had certainly held no hope that she was anything more than another in a long line of faceless women.  And then Bruce had said her name again, mentioning her in a normal conversation about the state of education in Gotham. It wasn’t unheard of for the two of the to discuss things happening in the city that might seem mundane to those who knew of their personal mission though it shouldn’t; because if there wasn’t a soul in the city worth saving, what was the point of them risking everything to try?  Alfred had not been fazed by hearing the same name twice in a day, heaven knew he heard the ridiculous names Bruce’s enemies used to ‘strike fear’ into Gotham multiple times a day, several times a week. He’d managed to have deeply serious conversations with Bruce about some fool named The Penguin, who used exploding wind up penguin toys to attack people, so hearing a relatively normal, if not old and rare name hadn’t been of any consequence to him; it was _how_ Bruce had said it when he’d uttered it that had caught Alfred’s attention.  

 

Bruce wasn’t given to bouts of emotion when talking about people, even those he cared for.  When Jason had died at the Joker’s hands, he had turned everything inward as he always did when he felt the pain of loss.  Even Alfred was more willing to talk about how deeply it had hurt to lose the young man while Bruce had elected to internalize it and use it to become a more powerful fighter.  If he was interested in a woman, it was for reasons that really didn’t require explanation because they were both men and it wasn’t necessary. When he said Myrna’s name, when he spoke of her work, it captured Alfred’s attention and barbed the old man’s heart into wondering if there was more hope to be had than he’d thought.  Bruce spoke highly of the young woman, prompting Alfred to carefully ask questions to keep the conversation going, Bruce strangely willingly to discuss it further, how he’d met her, her honesty about her work and why she did it, even her sense of humor. Alfred was silently thrilled that Bruce had gone to see her the day after meeting her, intent on asking her to join him for an evening, even though he was concerned Bruce’s attempt to multitask would leave all three of them disappointed for different reasons; and when it had, left Alfred wanting to cuff Bruce for being an idiot with a woman he’d so clearly had an interest in.

 

Bruce had managed to make it right though and the woman who’d captured his attention was able to take the slight maturely, giving Alfred’s grown charge another chance.  When Alfred had first met her, he was surprised, not because she wasn’t beautiful or frankly, enchanting compared to those who had come before, but because unlike the ones who had come before, she was precisely what he believed Bruce wanted but denied himself because he didn’t want to become attached.  She was intelligent, gentle, kind, by God, she was polite (a trait so many lacked these days, Alfred lamented frequently) and she _listened_ to Bruce when he spoke; not just smiling and nodding until the night ended as it always did, but truly listened and _wanted_ to know _him_.  Alfred found himself thinking of a future for Bruce that didn’t include the Batman, one where his only job was to be a husband and father with a successful business to run; something Alfred hadn’t managed in twenty years as he aided Bruce in his missions.

 

Then came the truth behind Bruce’s delving into Lex Luthor’s business, no dirty bombs or arms deals as Bruce had suggested, no-- Bruce had a vendetta against Superman, the Kryptonian, who by all accounts and purposes had been on Earth his whole life and if not for his superior abilities, would easily pass for human.  Alfred could not disagree with Bruce, the level of destruction that had nearly decimated Metropolis’ business district and killed hundreds was beyond out of line. They had lost many good people with the literal fall of the Wayne financial building, including a good friend to both of them, Jack O’Dwyer.  However, as a man who had faced enemies many times in his life, he couldn’t say with confidence he felt Superman was an enemy, the man having battled his own people after their sudden arrival and attempts to turn Earth into their own wasteland of a planet.  Bruce, however, felt differently, believing Superman was a danger to Earth just by existing and that the only way to keep anything from happening was to destroy him now, while he had the chance and the ability to do so. Or would, once he had obtained the Kryptonite, Luthor had dredged up in the Indian Ocean.  A kernel of hope bloomed when Bruce, who had been adamant about keeping Myrna away, not even wanting to hear her name after the guilt of not stopping her attacker before he had reached her and his realization that he felt his mission came first, as always, hadn’t managed to keep his own directive. Unable to resist the fact she had come back for him, despite his best efforts to make it seem he didn’t care for her.  Bruce had softened minutely on Superman’s demise, perhaps some of Myrna’s ability to forgive and be forgiven had permeated through him and for a brief second, Bruce might not have been as keen to end the alien as he had been before.

 

But, just as quickly as Alfred had seen the flash of a different ending for Bruce, it melted away and the image of Bruce, broken, bloodied and dead, returned to his mind’s eye.  An image that had accompanied Alfred since Bruce had narrowly escaped his first endeavor as Batman and he feared coming true on a nearly daily basis. The capitol building had been attacked, there were more dead, including another familiar face and Superman at the center of it all and Alfred knew, no matter how much he might have found he had fallen in love with Myrna Swift, Bruce would not be able to let what had happened stand.  He was right, much to his grief, when he saw Bruce return from, he could only assume, a last visit to the arms of Miss Swift, heading straight for the batcave.

 

Alfred joined him after a moment, taking one last swig of his drink and heading down after him, knowing when he arrived, he would find a singularly focused man.  As he entered the batcave, he wasn’t surprised to find him changing, silent and humorless. Alfred stood back as Bruce slipped the top of his suit over his head, covering his scarred body once more, reaching for his boots and grabbing up his cowl and cape from the tiny room he kept everything in.

 

“Did you tell her?” Alfred said from where he stood, Bruce sitting down on a bench positioned beside his weapons, pulling a boot on with a solid yank.

 

“Tell her what?” He asked, Alfred finding it difficult not to snap at his master for such a petulant response.

 

“Tell her you plan to kill Superman.” He said simply and to the point. Bruce stopped mid pull on his second boot and looked at Alfred with a withering look.

 

“Why would I?” He responded, Alfred shaking his head in disgust.  If there was one thing Alfred found the most infuriating about Bruce Wayne, it was his penchant for hard headedness. A family trait as Alfred had discovered in his many years of service; and although his respect was well won in Bruce, the younger man brilliant in mind and body, Alfred lamented his ability to slip away from a situation, even when he should face it head on, because he believed that best for everyone; when in reality no one had had the opportunity to argue how wrong he was. From what he had observed of Miss Myrna, she would not likely accept Bruce’s one sided decision, nor would she accept what he was about to do.

 

“Well, possibly to give her fair warning she’ll likely never see you again, Master Wayne.” He answered, Bruce shaking his head as he finished pulling on his other boot before standing and checking his utility belt for anything needing replacement or recharge.

 

“The less she knows, the safer she is, Alfred.” He said with some finality, though even he was smart enough to know Alfred wouldn’t take that.

 

“Her safety… Master Wayne, I believe that’s the last thing she would care about in this situation.” Alfred retorted, Bruce turning on his heel to face Alfred, eyes angry.

 

“Well   _I_ have to care about it, Alfred.  Every time I become the Batman, I risk everything, I risk all of this, I risk you… I won’t do that with Myrna. Not if I fail.” He growled, Alfred still shaking his head.

 

“Then you had no business pursuing the young lady, Master Wayne. If you had no intention of abandoning this foolishness.” He said, Bruce growing even more irritated.

 

“Foolishness… Have you seen the news today, Alfred?  That alien terrorist blew up the capitol…”

 

“Speculation and rumors, Master Wayne, there’s no proof of his involvement.”

 

“And where has the coward gone?  Into hiding.  Hasn’t said one word denying what he’s done, he carried out a few of the dead and injured and then disappeared to who knows where. Even _I_ can’t find him. Not much of a declaration of innocence, is it?” Bruce demanded, Alfred wondering how he had missed this build up of anger in him. How had he not seen this fury directed toward a man he’d never met nor had sufficient proof to despise so deeply.

 

“Is this the kind of justice we practice, Master Wayne?  The kind where we determine a man’s guilt on circumstantial evidence and bias?” He asked, but Bruce was done talking.

 

“HE’S NOT A MAN!” He yelled, silencing his oldest friend in a way he never did, immediately ashamed but too far down the rabbit hole to stop.  He needed him to understand since he would never be able to get Myrna to if he had his way.

 

“He’s an alien using our own world against us to maintain his power— He’s already shown he’s a danger to mankind, we can’t afford to take anymore chances.  This ends _now_. I’m going to LexCorp and I’m going to get the Kryptonite….” He said, Alfred’s face showing all the disappointment he felt in Bruce freely. Bruce pulled his cowl over his head, it connecting with the rest of his suit and his voice disguiser activating as Bruce looked at him pleadingly.

 

“I need you on this, Alfred…” He said, the elder man having gone silent as Bruce ranted. After a moment, he turned his tortoise shell rimmed eyes up to his charge.

 

“Master Wayne, you well know I have a duty to this family, what little remains of it… If it is to end with this fight, I will not abandon it now.” Bruce nodding, relieved to have his truest ally at his side once more, his attention caught as Alfred put his hand out, shaking his finger at Bruce like he was a child again.

 

“I will continue to remind you, however, that Miss Myrna deserves better than you have forced on her with your decision, Master Wayne. She is a grown woman and she is owed a greater respect for her desire to care for you despite your repeated attempts to make her let you go, even though it is clear you don’t want that anymore than she does.” He said, Bruce quiet, knowing Alfred was right.  He nodded his agreement before the two moved further into the batcave, taking their respective positions, Bruce off into the night, Alfred taking his place behind the computer screens he manned for Master Wayne. As he watched Bruce set off, Alfred pulled his phone from his vest pocket, staring at the darkened screen, his reflection watching him intently. If he did what he was thinking of doing, he knew Bruce would take it as a betrayal of his trust, but if he did not do what he was thinking of doing, Alfred was sure Bruce would miss an opportunity for happiness that he had long lacked.  He didn’t know which would be worse. After a long moment of consideration, Alfred sighed, his sense of duty to Bruce and his wishes overpowering him and he dropped the phone back into his pocket. Perhaps Bruce would come to his senses before he needed to use it.

 

Perhaps.

 

* * *

 

Myrna had woken to the sound of the front door shutting and Penni humming loudly and happily as she puttered around downstairs. At first she panicked, reaching for Bruce because she hadn’t exactly planned to have him over and didn’t want there to be any awkwardness were he and Penni to meet at this late hour. The panic was replaced with confusion as her hand only found an empty space next to her, her head lifting off the bed, the moonlight just bright enough for her to see she was alone and the pile of Bruce’s clothes that had ended up near her door were gone.  She felt her heart sink that he’d left without waking her to say goodbye and the feeling she’d been unable to shake was still very much alive.

 

She sat up in her bed, wrapping her blankets around her bare skin, her phone was still downstairs where she’d left it when she’d first gotten home, having had no reason to and then distractions keeping her from moving it close by again.  Brushing her hair out of her eyes, she considered what could have possessed Bruce to leave without saying a word and tried to keep her mind on more positive reasons. Deciding she didn’t want to speculate and make herself look like a fool, she slipped out of her bed, grabbing her nightie from her vanity seat and slipping it over her head.  She raked her fingers through her hair and pulled it back to keep it out of her face before she pulled her door open, a light on in the kitchen from where Penni seemed to have staked her claim for the moment. Myrna padded down the stairs, realizing the dogs were still in the spare room and turning the opposite corner from the kitchen to let them out, the two girls heading straight for the kitchen where they knew someone was near their treat jar, Hank lifting his head off the bed long enough to see she wasn’t a robber before dropping it back on the bed with a sigh and going back to sleep.

 

“Some guard dog you are.” She muttered before turning away from the door and following Daisey and Jasmine to the kitchen where she found Daisey looking worriedly at Penni who had Jasmine up on her back paws, hands grasping her front paws and was dancing with her on the tile floor, still in her get up from her date with Dr. Ennis.

 

“And the clock struck midnight and the coach didn’t turn into a pumpkin or anything, Jasmine-- We might have struck the jackpot of men!” She had just finished saying as Myrna walked in, her friend smiling widely when she saw her.

 

“Myr!  I hope I didn’t wake you up!” She said, though she’d had such a nice evening, Myrna suspected Penni might not care if she had.  Myrna shook her head as she leaned against one of the counters in the kitchen, eyes still adjusting to the bright light the ceiling fixture was throwing off.

 

“No, you didn’t.” She said simply, Penni letting Jasmine go before she reached up and let her dark hair loose from the updo she’d put it in for the evening, she shook it free, letting it curl around her shoulders.

 

“What a night-- Dr… Aidan… Was such a gentleman the whole evening and that ACCENT… Oof… Will not be getting over THAT anytime soon.” She said as she walked to the fridge for a water, not caring if her lipstick was smudged now.

 

“I’m glad you had a good time, he seems like a nice man.” Myrna said, truly happy for her friend, but knowing she was letting Bruce’s silent exit gnaw at her brain more than she should.  She was sure she was reading into it, but the man was an expert at making her second guess everything she thought about their relationship, even if he didn’t mean it. Or if he did.

 

“Oh, he _is_ … And I got a goodnight kiss, so I’m expecting a call any second now asking me if he can see me again.” She said, her smile wide as she thought back on their evening.  Myrna was about to ask something when Penni’s phone that was sitting on the counter beside her went off, Penni dove for it, holding it up excitedly.

 

“Oh, maybe I was ri-- Oh… No.” She said, disappointed when she realized it wasn’t what she was hoping.  “It’s just a news alert… I need to shut those off, I never read them.” She said, even though this one she did, eyes narrowing as she read the text.

 

“What?” Myrna asked, curious.

 

“Someone broke into LexCorp.” Penni answered as she swiped the article up to finish reading it, eyes now widening as a video played.

 

“Lex Luthor’s building?  Why? Did they take anything?” She asked, Penni handing her her phone to read for herself.

 

“It doesn’t say what they took, but whatever it was, they definitely weren’t leaving without it.” She said, Myrna taking the phone and looking down at the screen.  The article stated it was still a developing story but accounts from the officers on site, security had encountered a single suspect that none of them were able to describe in detail but had been wearing a dark suit of some kind of armor, their face covered, who had obvious military or self-defense training as they had disabled several well trained security teams with little to no effort; the author indicating a few of them were in critical condition from their injuries.  The live video included with the article showed the security building one had to pass in order to enter the parking lot was ablaze, the front doors of the building completely demolished, emergency personnel rushing in and out of the property. Myrna could only imagine what the rest of the building looked like. She felt her shoulders stiffen as she considered what might have happened, though she hoped to God she was wrong. She had no reason to believe he would be in Metropolis at this hour and what LexCorp might have that he couldn’t obtain on his own she had no idea, but what little description she had seen made her feel sick to her stomach.

 

“Girl, what’s wrong with you?  Do you feel ok, your face just went pale as a ghost.” Penni asked, pulling Myrna back into their kitchen and her current situation.  Myrna shook her head, handing Penni’s phone back to her.

 

“Sorry, I think I’m just tired-- haven’t been sleeping well and I guess it caught up to me.” She said, Penni giving her a sneaky smile, Myrna might have kept the juicy details to herself, but she wasn’t naive enough not to know she’d had an eventful weekend with Bruce.

 

“Not sleeping well, huh?  Is that what we call it now?” She said, Myrna giving her friend a look that quieted her down.  It was clear she was not in a talking mood, whatever the reason might be.

 

“Hey,” Penni said, “I gotta get this stuff off my face before I break out into a million pimples, you should get to bed, we’ve got work tomorrow and we both need our beauty sleep.” She said, Myrna nodding, though if she thought for one second she was going to be able to sleep when it seemed Bruce had just robbed the property of a fellow businessman for whatever reason, while he was disguised as Batman, she was so very wrong.  As she watched her best friend retreat up the stairs to get ready for bed, Myrna desperately wished she could call her back and tell her everything. Tell her that she was not just seeing Bruce Wayne, that he had another identity as Batman and all the good that had come of it, since so many people didn’t even believe he existed. She wanted to tell her how she felt about him, both of him, her fears and her doubts, to talk it out with someone who understood how her mind worked, maybe be reassured she wasn’t crazy-- and now, how she was terrified he was getting wrapped up in something awful.  But she had to stay silent, had to choke it back, because it wasn’t her secret to tell and never would be, she couldn’t betray Bruce even if it meant a betrayal of trust from a woman who had been at her side for years and knew everything there was to know about her.

 

Just not this.

 

Even though she suspected it was pointless, Myrna grabbed her phone from her purse, walking back into the light of the kitchen, to find that aside from a message from Penni telling her she was on her way home, there wasn’t anything from Bruce, no goodbyes, no you might see something on the news about me, no thanks for the pity fu-- She stopped herself before she finished her thought.  Bruce was a lot of things, she knew that much, by most definitions a womanizer-- but _she_ was not an idiot, she had made her choices with him because as attracted to him as she was, she had never felt anything but safe with him.  She wouldn’t have let him lay so much as a finger on her if she didn’t believe that and she would never have gone to him with her suspicions if there had been even a remote chance he would have hurt her.  There was more to this, there had to be, she just didn’t know what it was and she didn’t know how to proceed. She sat down at the kitchen table, dropping her phone on the top with a light thud. She rested her elbows against the soft grain of the wood, fingers lacing together as she laid her forehead against them.

 

“What are you doing, Bruce?” she asked, knowing she wouldn’t receive an answer.  What was she going to do now?

 

* * *

 

 

Once he had the Kryptonite, Bruce focused all of his energy and attention on it.  It was like he had no other life outside of the batcave where the mineral was housed now.  He showed up at his office, signed papers, answered questions, during the day, but none of it made a difference to him now, as his mind always wandered back to the shining green rock that was currently being scanned and tested for the most appropriate ways to break it down and weaponize it as he had plans for.  Although it was currently the largest piece of Kryptonite that had ever been located, it was still a relatively small amount and for something where every molecule of it mattered to be effective in his plan, he had to be careful with how he handled it, there would be no second chances if he destroyed what he had before using it on Superman. 

 

He assumed breaking it down into aerosol form would be particularly useful, the Kryptonian still had to breathe, based on the hours of footage he had poured over after the attack by Zod and his ilk and one of the quickest ways to take anything down with lungs was to attack it where it breathed.  As for the kill shot, Bruce knew he was playing with fire and it would likely ensure he was killed, but he wanted to be sure it was done and by his hand if it was going to happen at all. He had plans for a more personal weapon, one where he might see the life drain from Superman’s eyes, realizing he would no longer be able to bring fear and horror to the world ever again.  It was a selfish move, but if he was going to sacrifice his life for this, it was what he wanted.

 

Before he knew it, days had passed, in preparation for his impending meeting with Superman.  Despite his efforts to stay focused simply on the task at hand, repeatedly reminding himself he had said goodbye to Myrna for a reason, the fact she had made no attempts to contact him or see him made him wonder.  It had been what he thought he had wanted, but he was finding that wasn’t exactly true. That he might have hurt her enough to stay away from him altogether made him feel worse than he’d ever felt in this situation before.  He tried to force himself to ignore it, repeating his usual mantras, that it was for the best, she would be better off, she’d get over it eventually; but in trying to speak for her, he found he couldn’t speak for himself. 

 

It wasn’t long before his new weapons were nearing completion, the finishing touches in process, leaving him to his own devices until they were done, which meant working on the only the other weapon he had. 

 

His body.  

 

He realized he would never be able to beat Superman in hand to hand combat unless the Kryptonian was severely weakened, hence the Kryptonite.  Even so, Bruce couldn’t be sure the mineral would weaken a full strength Superman immediately or for how long. This was untested science at best, the practical trial would be on the spot and if it wasn’t as effective as he hoped, he would have to work twice as hard to bring his beast down.  Obviously this would require him to be at his most strengthened and agile. To be a wall that could take his hits as well as give them. Alfred was putting the finishing touches on a mech suit they had designed for a situation like this to provide what little protection it would and perhaps add what little strength it could as well. 

 

Meanwhile, he trained his body hard, hours were spent in his makeshift gym off the computer filled rooms of the batcave. Lifting weights, pushing heavy containers filled with iron chain, beating a tire with a sledgehammer and lifting himself on a pull up bar with heavy weights tied to his waist until his skin was slick with sweat, hair plastered to his forehead and his muscles screamed for him to stop before they gave out and then he forced himself to do more; pulling a tractor tire toward him with thick rope that tore at his flesh until his hands were raw, the sound of water pounding against the concrete beside him and splashing against him  as the lake the batcave was built under found cracks and crevices to trespass through. When the tire finally reached him with his final yank on the rope, he felt his rage and pain from pushing himself to his limit bubble up from his very core and he let out a roar as he threw the rope in his hands to the ground. It didn’t take him long to realize he wasn’t alone, turning and fully expecting to see Alfred.

 

Instead, he found Myrna looking back at him.


	18. If It Be the End, By God Let It Be An Honorable End...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred has summoned Myrna in hopes seeing her will change Bruce's mind about Superman.

Bruce was not often surprised, his ability to have a plan for every eventuality was almost legendary, always several steps ahead of his adversaries in both the criminal and corporate world— and also when those two worlds combined into the corporate criminal.  So many times with Myrna though, he found himself with no plan. No escape route and plenty of surprises. He knew it wasn’t out of malicious intent, Myrna was not the one with a secret life, she didn’t have to hide anything from anyone if she didn’t want to and it was one of many reasons why he had found himself so deeply invested in what they were building together-- that is until he couldn’t.  Twice now he’d tried to walk away and twice he’d proven he couldn’t manage it. Still breathing heavily from his efforts, Bruce took a step back, raking his hands through his sweaty hair to keep it from sticking to his skin.

 

“Myrna--” He said as his lungs began to stop burning, his arms and legs turning to jelly after the abuse they’d just endured, “What are you doing here?” he asked, knowing that although he had shown her some of the world he had created down here, she had never reached this far before they had… Before he… Had let his desire for her be known.  

 

“That was my doing, Master Wayne.” The all too familiar gravel of Alfred’s voice echoed around the corner the doorway Myrna stood in as the elder British man came around it, hands shoved in his pockets and a look on his face that told Bruce he was fully aware how unhappy this move would make him, but didn’t care.    

 

“I called Miss Myrna here because I fear you’ve forgotten there are things in this world that are for you and if you continue down this path you _will_ lose them.” He continued, Bruce feeling his blood rush through him in response to a duplicity he wasn’t used to from Alfred.  He had made himself clear, or at least thought he had made himself clear about what he wanted for Myrna and it wasn’t being involved in this or even with him anymore.

 

“What gave you the right to do that, Alfred?” He said cooly, though he felt like boiling but it wasn’t Alfred who responded to him.

 

“ _Gave_ him the right?  The fact he’s the closest thing you have to a father and he cares for you.   _That’s_ what gave him the right.” Myrna responded, a fury of her own snapping behind her eyes in a way that Bruce had not yet seen.

 

“By dragging you into this when I specifically told him not to?” Bruce responded, striding over to the bench in the room and grabbing a towel to wipe the dripping sweat from his face and give himself a moment to compose whatever thoughts he could now that he was being ambushed.

 

“He didn’t drag me into anything, he asked me to come because he was concerned for you.” She answered him, Bruce shaking his head in disagreement.

 

“He should be more concerned about what I have to say about his clear disregard for my instructions.” Bruce as he finished wiping his face and grabbed a water bottle from the same bench, taking a swig from it, punctuating how quickly he wanted this conversation to end.

 

“We’re not your employees, Bruce-- You don’t get to force your will on us not to right wrongs.” Myrna said, crossing her arms in front of her, Bruce recognizing that as her tell that she was ready for a fight and would not be walking away from this with her tail between her legs.  He was proud of her, even if she would see soon enough it wasn’t worth the heartbreak. Bruce set the water bottle down and threw his towel over his shoulder as he pointed at Alfred from where he stood.

 

“Technically, he _is_ my employee and when I tell someone who works for me not to do something, I do expect them to listen.” He retorted, the look on Myrna’s face turning to one of disgust.

 

“I’m not usually given to acts of violence, but even _I_ could just smack you.  God only knows how Alfred doesn’t strangle you...” She said, hardly believing the words had left her mouth but then realizing it might be something Bruce needed to hear, that even she, the apparently delicate and fragile flower he seemed to think she was, could handle far more than he insisted she could.

 

“It doesn’t take a genius to see Alfred is a good man and he deserves more respect than what you just gave him.” She added, Bruce nodding, put in his place at the moment.  She was right of course, Alfred had been his friend longer than he had been his employee if he was being honest. The old man could have walked out on him the second his parents died, because Bruce wasn’t his and the responsibility of teaching a prepubescent boy to be a man with a fortune was hardly as glamorous as it might sound.

 

“You’re right, of course.” He said, looking at Alfred with a softened glance, “but that doesn’t change the fact I asked him to leave you out of this, Myrna.” He said, not sure what Alfred had told her to get her here.  Myrna threw up her hands in confusion, it was like Bruce thought they’d had a conversation about this already but neglected to invite her to it.

 

“Leave me out of WHAT, Bruce?  The last time we…” She looked awkwardly at Alfred and then back at Bruce, “we’re together, you didn’t even bother to say goodbye-- You just left, so what exactly do you think you’re protecting me from?” she asked him, her voice tight.  She had spent almost three days being torn between knowing Bruce had done something at LexCorp and that was likely the cause of his silence or wondering if she’d been completely and utterly had. It wasn’t until Alfred had contacted her that she’d had any relief from the thoughts plaguing her, but their conversation had only caused her new worries.  As she had come to expect from Alfred, he had not been entirely forthcoming with her over the phone as to why Bruce had gone silent running, but had been clear he felt Bruce was making decisions that would only lead him to a place he was afraid he would not be able to come back from; and personally, he felt a reminder from someone, who perhaps had become more important to him than Bruce would like to admit, would be enough to set him straight.

 

Myrna had never been more nervous as she drove to the glasshouse, oddly enough even more so than when she had come to ask him about the Batman.  Likely because everything was so tenuous, she didn’t know what Bruce was up to and if Alfred was concerned for him, after all these years, then it couldn’t be anything good.  When Alfred had directed her down further than she’d been with Bruce, she was surprised at how large of a space there was, the sound of rushing water around them and confirming to her they were under the lake beside the house.  It was cold, but not uncomfortable and it being a secret lair became more and more clear as she saw the computers that likely had data she could only assume had been obtained in less than legal fashion, a staircase leading down to his “more utilitarian vehicle” and tables full of technology in progress.  She had known something like this existed, but she was still wrapping her mind around Bruce’s identity as the Batman and hadn’t thought big enough it seemed. Alfred had gestured for her to come around the corner ahead of him, where she could hear the sound of something being dragged across the floor. She found Bruce, back to her, pulling a tractor tire on a rope toward him.  His skin was slick with sweat, clearly he had been working out long before this moment, she watched as the muscles in his back contracted, arms moving in time to each pull, bringing it closer to him.

 

She would have admired this view, were it any other day, but she knew this was not a normal workout for him.  He was preparing for something he felt required all the strength he could muster and which was only confirmed as he gave one last pull and heaved the tire toward him, throwing the rope from his raw hands to the ground and letting out a sound she had never heard him uttered and hoped he wouldn’t again.  It was a sound of fury and although she had no doubt Bruce could become angry, she had never considered what it would take to enrage him. So when he stopped, chest rising and falling hard after the work he had put his body through, suddenly aware someone was watching him, Myrna wasn’t sure if that rage would now extend to her.  When he turned to look at her, there was a spark of surprise in his eyes, that she was definitely not anyone he was expecting to see.

 

Now here they were and she was no closer to getting an answer out of him than she had been a few seconds ago.  Bruce pulled the shirt that had been sitting beside his towel over his shoulders. Buttoning it as he walked away from the two of them, meeting Alfred’s eyes as he passed by the older man, conveying as much disappointment as he could with one look, however, the older man didn’t appear to be recalcitrant in the slightest.  Bruce had never truly believed Alfred would do something like this; all the years they had worked side by side, Alfred had never wavered in offering his opinion or disagreeing with Bruce about his methods, but never had he gone against Bruce’s express wishes.

 

Alfred also knew that Myrna, was far different than anyone else Bruce had allowed into his world; saying otherwise would be a lie.  He saw that Alfred cared for her and far more deeply than he’d admit out loud, which Bruce knew is why she was here, as if he needed a reminder he was walking away from something remarkable.  Alfred, however, seemed to forget that remarkable thing wouldn’t last long once Superman had the chance to set it all aflame. Someone had to be willing to sacrifice even the most precious because it was necessary, so it might as well be him; Heaven knows, he was used to it.

 

“Master Wayne, I am aware you feel that I’ve done a disservice to you by asking Miss Myrna to join us, but at the very least, she deserves honesty from you.” The older man said without so much as a hint of concern he might have derailed Bruce’s plan.  In fact, it seemed that was his hope. Unfortunately for him, bringing Myrna here and exposing her to this, would likely have the opposite effect he was hoping for. He knew the two of them were following him back out into the open space of the cave, the thud of Alfred’s work boots reminding him every the step of the way.  He stopped at one of the computers, the remainder of the Kryptonite sitting beside it. The screen indicating it had not yet completed its scans on how to best cut the mineral so it would be shaped as he had indicated for his final weapon. He would have moved on to to prepare another station, one that was located on a scaffolding nearby, that would set him up higher than where they stood now, but Alfred’s voice stopped him.

 

“You owe her that much, sir.”

 

Bruce turned to face the two of them again, Alfred looking irritated his charge was being so obtuse, Myrna looking unsure what she might end up hearing and if she wanted to hear it.

 

“Alfred, what I owe her is a normal life, one where this,” he answered,  gesturing around the space that was more home to him than any glasshouse or mansion, “doesn’t invade it.” He heard Myrna let out a frustrated breath.

 

“ _She_ would appreciate it if you didn’t talk about her like she isn’t standing right in front of you.” Myrna responded, Bruce sighing, returning the computer to its work.  It was becoming more difficult by the second for him to act like this wasn’t bothering him, to try to get her to see she shouldn’t be with him at all. It was becoming more difficult by the second because he was having trouble believing that himself.  

 

“Myrna, I have always made decisions that affected only me.” He started, just to be interrupted by a snort from Alfred’s general vicinity, exacerbating Bruce’s annoyance.  “ _And_ Alfred…” He added, running his hands through his hair.  Alfred was right that he owed her honesty, but he found himself selfishly wanting to withhold it because perhaps it would keep her from losing faith in him for a little while longer.  She might understand, someday, might see that he’d had to do this; but he forced himself to continue.

 

“So now I find my world has one more person in it that I care about and the last thing I want is my decisions to affect them.” He added, Myrna looking at him with a look on her face that he couldn’t quite read, like she was seeing something he hadn’t truly intended.

 

“Except it is, Bruce… Me being here at all is proof of that-- So is it really because you don’t want your decision to affect me or is it because you don’t want me to try to stop you?” She asked, Bruce recognizing that she was too good at this.  He might not be a child or one of her students, but part of her everyday life was sussing out why people, big or small were behaving the way they were, she’d figured him out in no time at all and he’d spent practically his whole life learning how to keep people from doing exactly what she had; in all honesty, he should have expected no less from her.

 

“Myrna.” He said, he detested being this torn about what he was doing.  Any other day, any other situation, any other person, this would not cause him any grief, the decision would be simple.  He could cut off ties and never be involved with them again, but this was different, a word that bounced around his skull on a near daily basis until the point of being cliche.  Myrna was different, she was more and she was different and everything he was wanted that in his long, miserable life despite the evidence surrounding them to the contrary. He didn’t have the words to express that right now and he was faltering on a plan that had been two years in the making.  But it didn’t seem to matter that he couldn’t find the words to explain, the computer they were standing beside involving itself in their conversation with a loud beep, alerting them to it having completed the work it had been tasked. The trio’s eyes all turned to the screen, the large type flashing on and off that calculations were 100% complete.  Bruce looked at the screen and back to Myrna, who tilted her head, watching Bruce for his next move; some indication of what was happening.

 

“Well, Master Wayne… It appears your Kryptonite is ready.” Alfred said, finally breaking the tension between all three.  Myrna looked at the green stone sitting in the scanner beside the computer before turning to Alfred, confused; she didn’t know what Kryptonite was, but it certainly sounded like it was related to something or someone familiar.

 

“What is Kryptonite?” She asked, Alfred looking pointedly at Bruce, who sighed, shoulders bobbing as though trying to relieve a pressure there.

 

“It’s a mineral-- composed of the remains of the Kryptonian terraforming ships. What was left behind was like remnants of Superman’s homeworld.” He said simply. Myrna not quite satisfied with his answer, as he was about to find out.  Crossing her arms across her chest again, she looked Bruce in the eye before asking, though she had a bad feeling she already knew what was going to be said.

 

“And why would you need something like that?”

 

Bruce crossed his own arms, certainly unwilling to answer and almost becoming petulant, if she had to put a word to it.  It was a look she had seen many times in her work with children who lacked discipline; she knew full well Bruce didn’t lack discipline, if anything that’s all he was.  He was however, a very powerful man who lived in a world where he wasn’t often questioned and certainly not by the likes of someone like her. As he seemed to be the referee for this particular conversation, Alfred turned to Myrna, happy to oblige.

 

“Apparently, when introduced to Kryptonian cells, it weakens them; a significant amount of Kryptonite causing the owner of said cells to lose much of their superior abilities…” He shared, leaning toward Myrna, “In short, a god becomes more easily managed.” He added, Myrna looking at the Kryptonite and then to Bruce.

 

And there it was.  

 

The look Bruce had hoped to die before seeing cross Myrna’s face as she realized what he was doing, what all of this had been for.  He watched her as her arms dropped from her chest, hands now crossing in front of the spot that bore a scar he’d become intimately acquainted with.  There weren’t many reasons why someone would need to weaken a person who had gone by the name Superman since being introduced to the public, it certainly didn’t take a genius to determine what they were.  She took a step back as she processed what she had just discovered and she felt sick. She knew Bruce was capable of so much, she’d been witness to it, had to talk him down from it at least once, she had no illusions that Bruce had done and would do things that she never could; but she had never thought he would be planning a murder right before her eyes.  Had he been when they were together, had some corner of his brain always been working on how to kill another person?

 

“I don’t understand… What could you possibly need to kill Superman for?” She said, Bruce feeling that familiar anger snap in his belly at the question.

 

“What could I possibly NOT need to kill Superman for?” He responded tightly, wishing Myrna could see this from his perspective.  She knew the world wasn’t a happy place, in general, people had to scrounge for scraps to make life feel like it was worth living.  She had the bruises from one piece of filth and his sorry excuse for a son to prove it, she had the SCARS from Superman himself to prove it even more that there was a fire in this world that needed to be put out and yet here she was, shocked at his willingness to be the one to do it.

 

“Possibly because murder is and always will be wrong?” She said, her chest constricting at the thought of Bruce turned murderer.  Then again, how could she know he wasn’t already one? She didn’t know, did she? All she had were newspaper clippings and the gossip of five year olds to tell her what he did in the dark as Batman.  A whole week with him and she’d deluded herself into thinking she knew him, when in reality, she barely knew him at all. Myrna’s head was reeling, she was splitting in two, working against herself as her mind shot through plan after plan— flipping through every move should she be making in this moment.  One half of her was screaming that she’d had her fun but she needed to walk away now, before she was pulled in so deep there was no coming back, that if he could do this to someone like Superman, what was stopping him from doing the same to her or anyone she loved? Meanwhile the other half screamed at her that he could have done anything to her a thousand times over by now, but all he had done was love her, physically and mentally; she had never felt anything but safe with him.  She trusted him and that wasn’t anything she ever bestowed on someone if it weren’t true for her. Bruce shook his head at her, twenty years of making decisions like this had led him here, had given him the ability to see a threat when there was one. Superman was a threat that needed to be eliminated before more people died because of him.

 

“This is not murder, this is prevention!  He blew up the Capitol building just this morning!  For God Sake, you’ve lived it, Myrna, he was directly responsible for the deaths of hundreds, the deaths of your students-- he was nearly responsible for _your_ death, how can you not see what kind of threat he is?” he asked, incredulous and weary at the same time.  Of all people, he didn’t want to fight her on this. He was used to the battles with Alfred, because despite it all Alfred would be there with him until the end of the line.  They were too far in this together for him to walk away from Bruce now. Myrna though, there was so little keeping her here, she still had a chance to walk out and although he knew, deeply, that it would be for the best if she simply left him, walked out the door now, that is not what he wanted.  Her face turned questioning and almost disgusted as she heard him invoke the memories of her students and her own suffering.

 

“Is _that_ why you asked me if I blamed him?” She asked as her memories wound back to a night where in that moment all she had known was being held in the arms of a man she could have loved for the rest of her life, answering his question honestly.  That a terrible thing had happened, that it had given her a perspective she would never forget, but that forgiveness was far more potent than living in a state of revenge. Obviously her words had fallen on deaf ears. He moved toward her, as though touching her would make her see differently, but she held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks.  

 

“Don’t you _dare_ use my sorrows, MY losses as your reason for turning yourself into a martyr, Bruce.  I will _not_ have that on my head.” She said, angry that he would even suggest that she would change her mind on such a thing were he to invoke the loss of the two students she’d been unable to save.  He knew she felt personally responsible for not being faster, or stronger in the aftermath of the attack, she’d practically hung it in neon over her head that she did. As though he were reading her mind, Bruce countered her.

 

“The fact you feel responsible for their deaths is enough for me, Myrna.  If the Kryptonians had never come here, you would never have had to go through any of that.  Your life would still be your own.” He said, Myrna’s eyes widening in disbelief at how obtuse he was showing he could be.

 

“As opposed to it not being mine now?”

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

“No, I don’t, Bruce.  Please, enlighten me.” She retorted; she knew much like Atlas, Bruce took the burden of the world on his shoulders, that the atrocities it created, whether little or large were his to fix, but this was extreme, even for him.

 

“You should be home, in Metropolis, teaching five year olds their ABCs.  Not trying to find absolution for something you couldn’t have stopped from happening, not stuck in Gotham and being beaten within an inch of your life by a thug whose child _you_ have to parent because he can’t be bothered.  None of which would have happened had Superman and every single worthless Kryptonian he brought here been stopped before they had their chance to try to destroy the world.” Bruce spat out, he wasn’t given to these outbursts, but his heart was racing, his blood rushing through him, hackles on end because she was fighting him so hard on this, his hand cutting through the air like a knife as he articulated his point, “I _cannot_ let that stand.”

 

Myrna was quiet for a moment, though Bruce knew it wasn’t because he had convinced her.  The look on her face, the set of her shoulders, all of it enough to tell him she was still very much under the impression he had lost his mind.  Were this another time, another argument, he might have softened his outlook, rethought his perspective for her, because he trusted her to do the right thing even if he couldn’t.  The memory of her standing between he and the coward who had attacked her, holding onto his arm just with her fingertips, her touch enough to remind him he was human showed him she had that power with him.  

 

But not this fight and she knew it; that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try though.

 

“I believe that you think you’re doing the right thing, Bruce-- I do-- But this is _not_ the right thing.  And using me as a reason isn’t either.  What happened to me, to my students, _happened--_ It was the worst day of my life, for so many reasons, but what came of that awfulness has been the best.” She said, Bruce’s eyes meeting hers as she spoke, her face having softened as she tried to explain.

 

“My life before all of this, was good, I won’t deny that.  I had my dream job, I was comfortable, I was near my family-- But I realized after that moment, I could do more than what was comfortable.  I had to; to make sure my surviving that day wasn’t wasted. I’ve done so much more here in Gotham than I ever would have back in Metropolis.  That little boy would have no one if I hadn’t come here, you know that as well as I do... “ She stepped forward, finally willing to come close to him, hand tentatively reaching out and coming to rest against his face, “And I would never have known you-- Not like I realize now, I would always want to know you.  I can’t want Superman dead for that.” She said, her brows drawing together as she tried to impress upon him what she meant. That even with all the tragedy that had happened two years ago, some good had come of it. Bruce felt his hands reach for her, pulling her to him and taking her mouth as she followed his lead.  They kissed each other with everything they had; Bruce wanting to pour into it what he felt for her, what he could feel for her, that he had seen a future with her in it like he had never seen before, but he couldn’t hide the one thing he knew she was looking for and after a moment they pulled apart, foreheads resting against one another as they held each other.  He heard her speak, her voice low, almost a whisper.

 

“You’re going through with it, aren’t you?” she asked, he didn’t want to answer even though he knew she already knew the answer.  He tightened his grip on her, wanting one more moment where none of this existed.

 

“I dream, every night, about the world Superman destroys.  I watch it turn into a wasteland, the bones of every human being buried in the nothing he creates— and now, when I dream, I see him take you away from me and it feels worse than it ever has before.  I can’t… I won’t let that happen.” He said, his eyes opening long enough to see Myrna’s face was wet, her own eyes clearly tearful. She let her hand come to rest above his heart like she had so many times before, before took a deep breath and stepped back from him, looking up and confirming the tears were real.

 

“Except you already have, Bruce.”  She said, using the heel of her other to  hand to brush away the wet under her eyes.  It felt like someone had her heart in a vise and was squeezing it until it was nothing but pulp.  On her worst day, she had never felt like this, even when she had been stuck in a hospital room for months, wondering if her body would ever heal, did she feel like this.  There had been light at the end of that tunnel, now she wasn’t so sure.

 

“I can’t watch you throw your life down on this…” She said, Bruce looking at her in a way that told her he felt very much like she did.

 

“You sound like him.” He said, head jerking toward Alfred, “Both so sure I won’t survive.” He said it, because he agreed with them, he probably wouldn’t, but it didn’t matter.  Selfishly he just wanted her to believe he would make it out of this. Myrna shook her head, she knew what he wanted from her and she couldn’t give it to him. Not this time.

 

“I don’t doubt your abilities, Bruce-- I’ve seen what you can do…” She said, lifting her hand pointing in the direction of Metropolis, “But I’ve seen what _he_ can do too…” Unable to finish what she wanted to say because it would either make her lose what little control she had over the waiting storm of sadness right at the very edge of her soul, or it would fall on deaf ears anyway.  When Bruce stayed silent, she knew she had been right. He felt he was making the right choice and for two years that had been the only choice-- her coming into his life might have touched it more than he’d ever expected, but that didn’t change who he was or what he believed he had to do.  A week or a year, she wasn’t sure it would have made a difference how long they had spent together, he would be who he was until the end.

 

So now so would she.

 

She pushed her hair out of her face, straightening as she made herself come to terms with that fact, she didn’t want to be witness to the death of Bruce Wayne.  The man she had fallen in love with. She would have liked to have a chance to tell him that, but unless by some twist of fate he came back to her, she was having a hard time believing she would ever be able to.  She turned to Alfred, the look on his face showing more disappointment than she thought was possible; much like her grandfather had been, Alfred was a strict military man, guarding his emotions as best he could so as not to give himself away.  Now there was a distinct sadness in his eyes that she wished she had been able to prevent, having come to respect and care for him as well. She stuck out her hand, wanting to maintain that discipline for him if she could.

 

“It has been a privilege getting to know you, Alfred.  Truly.” She said, the older man nodding, hesitating taking her hand, surprising her as he took it and then folded her into hug.  She was happy to return the unexpected emotional response, allowing the scent of bourbon and Brylcreem to bring back memories from her childhood that she would miss having a portal to, now that she knew she would never see Alfred again either.

 

“It has been my honor, Miss Myrna… I had hoped we would stand a chance at a different outcome.” He responded, looking over her head at Bruce, who remained stoic in the face of the two people he cared about most in the world, not understanding why he needed to do this.  He could feel an anger at it, building in him and he wasn’t sure if it were directed at them or his quarry, but he chose to direct it to that which had brought him here. Superman. If he was going to lose their love and respect and likely his life, then he would make sure the fight he brought to the Kryptonian was worthy of that loss.  Bruce watched as Alfred released Myrna from his grasp and walked her to the elevator that would take her away from this place and him. Seeing her retreating back tore at Bruce with every step, willing her to look back at him, to turn around and say she’d stay even if she couldn’t believe in what he was doing; but she did not, leaving him behind as the door to the lift opened, she kept her eyes fixed to the floor, fighting herself to look at him, until as the doors closed ahead of her, she couldn’t bear it and looked up at him.  

 

Goodbye.

 

It repeated over and over in him what her eyes had been saying to him, those dark hazel eyes as they watched him.  It felt like they bored into him for eternity in the second it took for the doors to close, hiding her from him and it felt like something in him snapped, the very lift doors cutting the last remnant holding him here.  As Alfred walked back to the work station, he saw the change in Bruce, shoulders tightening, face blank as he too straightened like Myrna had as she had realized what she needed to do. Bruce had reached that same conclusion and any sign that he felt the pain of her leaving was buried as he turned to the Kryptonite, removing it from the scanner and transferring the data the computer had gathered to the station beside the laser he planned to use to form his final weapon.  He watched as Bruce climbed the stairs, ever closer to his own demise an Alfred felt pangs in his heart, not unlike the night he had received a call informing him his world had changed in an instant and he thought he had lost the only person that had ever truly mattered to him. The familiarity of it reminded Alfred that he was very close to reliving everything he had prayed would never come to the Wayne family.

He knew he would not be able to say or do anything now that would change Bruce’s mind, in fact it would likely only garner his ire if he trod on the open wound he knew was left now.  So he kept his thoughts to himself, only muttering a mantra he and the likes of Erwin Denby had repeated to one another in times they were sure never to return from.

 

“If it be the end, by God, let it be an honorable end.”

 

This had never truly been the life he had expected for himself, or for Bruce and the feeling of helplessness it gave him was beyond his ability to accept.  He would not wallow, however, knowing it would be a silent night for the two of them now that Miss Myrna had gone so he chose to be useful, if he could find a way to keep his charge alive one more night, then so be it.  

 

But first, more coffee.


	19. They Were Hunters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle for the world has begun, Bruce and Superman have been tangled in the web of Lex Luthor's design and Myrna is left to protect her family from the fall out.

Myrna found waiting was the hardest thing she had to do over the course of the next 24 hours.  She had left Bruce to finish his preparations, heart fairly well broken. Although she had done everything she could to keep her mind off him and what he was planning to do, it wasn’t a simple matter of ignoring an itch or working through a stomachache.  She stayed quiet through breakfast, not really eating much, her guts in knots, keeping to herself during work, focusing on those who came to her office and answering questions but finding paperwork and anything else she might have been avoiding if it meant not having to socialize much.  The school day slipped by and although she had accomplished her goal of keeping to herself, it only gave her more time to think about everything she didn’t want to. She had no idea when Bruce was going to face Superman, according to the news; which Myrna had been loathe to watch in case by some chance Bruce wouldn’t at least wait until night to follow through with his plan and she’d see his face plastered all over the 5 o’clock news, shouting that he was dead, the Kryptonian had disappeared shortly after the explosion at the Capitol and no one knew where he currently was, or if he was even still on the planet.

 

For Bruce’s sake and for her own sanity, she hoped he wasn’t, but she knew it was unlikely.  Anything she had ever heard of Superman told her he’d been on Earth for longer than the two years people had been aware of him, he had no reason to leave, when it was clear this planet was more his home than where he had originally hailed from.  Even so, she knew Bruce wouldn’t give up on this vendetta until he was sure the threat was eliminated. All of this shot through her mind as she was trying to complete a grant proposal that wasn’t due for another few months and at the rate she was going, probably wouldn’t be completed for another few months; if anyone asked, she couldn’t tell them what she had managed to get  written on the application in the last two hours. In a moment of frustration she threw her pen on the desk, the writing utensil hitting at just the right angle to make an impressive bounce off the top and toward the door; just as Penni entered her office, narrowly escaping being hit as it skittered across the floor. She stopped midway through the doorway, looking up at Myrna, who had an apologetic look on her face.

 

“What did _I_ do?” she asked half jokingly, though she had been worried since this morning that something was happening with Myrna as she had been quiet and less than forthcoming in the conversation department than was usual for her.  Myrna shook her head, stretching out her hand to take the pen as her friend swiped it off the floor to return to her.

 

“You didn’t do anything, I’m sorry-- I lost my marbles for a second.” She said, setting the pen down, with much less force now, on top of the stack of paperwork ahead of her.  Penni smiled at her as she leaned a hip against Myrna’s desk.

 

“Well, did you find them all?  Because I’d hate for you to be a marble short.” She said, Myrna’s only showing a mere whisper of a smile across her lips and only increasing Penni’s sense that something wasn’t quite right with her.

 

“Might still need to be on the lookout.” She said, rubbing at her eyes only to remember she was wearing makeup and had likely successfully wiped some of it off.

 

“Shit.” Myrna muttered as she looked at the stain of mascara across her fingers, letting her face drop into her hands for a second, desperately wishing this day was over.  Penni reached across the desk, setting a gentle hand against Myrna’s shoulder, feeling just how tense her friend was.

 

“Myr, what’s going on?  You’ve been holed up in your office all day-- you’ve barely spoken ten words to me, less to everyone else and I was just about KO’d by a ballpoint pen walking in here.  Are you ok?” She asked, Myrna letting her head tip to the side, eyes closed as she thought about how she could possibly explain to her friend that Bruce Wayne had broken her heart, but not in the way she would probably think.  She didn’t want Penni to hate Bruce and she knew if she said that things had effectively ended between them, she would probably not care for him too deeply. After the hiccups they had already experienced, she was surprised Penni didn’t have surveillance out on him as it was, this would just intensify it.  She wanted to tell her friend everything, from start to finish, who and what Bruce was and not just that he was the Batman, but that everything in her wanted to be with him, even after such a short time together. That she was inexplicably drawn to him and just knew, KNEW that they had somehow been made for one another.  That if Bruce hadn’t just made such a life altering decision for them both regarding Superman, she would have never said such a thing about anyone else. It had taken her a full two years in her last true relationship to be sure she would say yes if he asked her to marry him and everyone knew how that had turned out. She still didn’t know how to answer Penni and she knew her best friend was going to wait for one until she tried, so she opened her eyes and shrugged her shoulders.

 

“I’m fine-- just a little overwhelmed with things, I guess.” She said stupidly, lifting up the stack of papers ahead of her as an excuse for her being so obviously stand offish.  Penni looked down at what Myrna was indicating was her problem, noting the post it note Myrna had written and stuck to it when she had first printed it off, where it plainly stated, in her own writing, the due date, which was months away.

 

“Uh-huh… I can see this _looming_ deadline is clearly the cause of your unfortunate attitude today.” She said, Penni knowing full well that Myrna could complete these proposals with her eyes closed, she had worked on so many, and plenty had been completed hours before due, none of which had led to her shutting down from the people she loved.  Myrna looked at her best friend, silently pleading with her to let it go and move on, but she suspected that might not be something Penni was capable of.

 

“Can we talk about this later?” She asked, Penni tilting her head to observe her friend.

 

“Ok…”

 

“Tha--”

 

“ _And_ it’s later… What did he do?” She asked point blank, interrupting Myrna who straightened and folded her hands over the papers she really wished Penni believed were the problem.  Myrna had the conversation all planned out in her head, the easy route so she wouldn’t feel alone in what she soon feared would be her grief, but if Penni didn’t think she was insane the second she started talking about everything she had experienced and discovered in the last week, Myrna would feel guilty that she had betrayed Bruce.  

 

“It is and isn’t what you think, Penni.  Bruce and I are…” She hesitated, not knowing what to say that wouldn’t make her beloved friend immediately jump to conclusions, “at an impasse right now… I just really don’t want to talk about it at the moment...” She said, Penni immediately going on the defensive on behalf of her friend.

 

“So help me… He didn’t do anything… _Ungentlemanly_ did he?” She asked, Myrna shaking her head vigorously to assure Penni It wasn’t what she was thinking.

 

“No… Absolutely not…”

 

“You would tell me though, right?” she asked, still concerned that her friend wasn’t confiding in her when she looked like she needed to confide in someone more than ever.  Myrna smiled and put her hand out to grip Penni’s where it sat against her desk.

 

“Of course-- I just need a little time before I start talking about it…” She said, Penni still looking worried, but doing her best to contain her desire to fix whatever was ailing Myrna while also remaining respectful of her wishes.  It was Penni’s lot in life to be a fixer while best friends with a fiercely independent woman who preferred fixing everything on her own. Myrna, smiled reassuringly-- thinking on how to be fair to her friend who was always infinitely patient with her, even when she didn’t have a reason to be.  She made a silent promise if she lost Bruce to his reckless plan, she would tell Penni everything she could. She couldn’t say she wanted to be able to tell Penni everything because it meant something so much worse. Penni smiled back at her, gripping her hand tightly.

 

“Good.” She answered, before letting Myrna return to staring at a grant application that wasn’t being completed any faster than it was before she’d walked in.  

 

* * *

 

As Myrna struggled with her day, so did Bruce. He was still resolved to complete his mission, the cost it would likely call for didn’t seem so high now that Myrna had made it clear she wouldn’t support him doing this.  He watched the sun begin to disappear behind the horizon as he wandered onto the overgrown lawns of the manor. He didn’t know why he was drawn here, perhaps just to reflect on his past before his future dissolved in front of him; maybe to think on the fact he would never step foot here again, whether it was complete or a burnt out shell as it had stood for most of his life.  He heard Alfred walk up behind him, the older man must have finished the last minute touches to his armor. Alfred joined him where he stood ahead of the fireplace in what used to be the grand foyer of the manor. Strong hewn stones making up the walls and floor, once pure white, now charred and discolored from fire and lack of care. After a moment, Alfred spoke, trying once more to remind Bruce of the price he was putting on his own head.

 

“You know you can’t win this.  It’s suicide.” He said, Bruce not looking away from the dark and cold hearth of the fireplace, imagining a time when it was alight, warm and a home.  A lifetime ago that was and too far away to come back now.

 

“I’m older now than my father ever was.  This may be the only thing I do that matters.” He responded, though he had managed to become older than his father had been without accomplishing much of what his father had, a point he would leave this world regretting; as he thought about this, he could almost hear the disdain in Alfred’s voice as he shot back his own response, disagreeing with Bruce's words.

 

“Twenty years of fighting criminals, amounts to nothing?” he asked, Bruce finally looking at his friend, face clear of any emotion.

 

“Criminals are like weeds, Alfred.  Pull one up, another grows in its place.  This is about the future of the world…” He started, hesitating as his mind betrayed him for a moment, making a connection with what he was about to say and what he felt.

 

“This is my legacy.” He finally said, looking down at the Wayne family crest carved into the stone of the floor. This was not the legacy he had been hoping for in this last week.  He hadn’t realized how much he had longed for someone who would shine a light on possibilities he had given up on so long ago.  Her name popped into his head without even trying. 

 

Myrna.

 

He could have created a legacy with her. He hadn’t needed a week, a year or a lifetime to realize it either, he wasn’t a lovesick teenager or a fool but as much as he wanted it, he couldn’t create that legacy with her if there was a chance he could lose her because he didn’t stop this threat now.  Alfred remained silent, still watching him, praying Bruce would come to his senses. Bruce finally continued, still looking on the crest, bolstering his resolve and reaffirming what he believed to be the right thing to do.

 

“You know my father sat me down right here, told me what Wayne manor was built on.” He said, Alfred recalling the story he had heard many times himself in the employ of Bruce’s father, letting the words roll off his tongue as he looked down on the now moss covered stone carving as well.

 

“Railroads, real estate, and oil.” He said, looking back at Bruce who tilted his head that that wasn’t all there was to it.

 

“First generation.  Made their fortune trading with the French.  Pelts, skins.” He said, looking at Alfred to confirm that this what he was, a Wayne, following in the footsteps of his family.

 

“They were hunters.” He finished, taking one last look at his ancestral home before he turned, giving Alfred a look of finality as he moved back out into the open of the estate, he had to prepare, push everything else aside and become the Batman once more to protect the world, even if it never realized what it cost him.  Alfred turned, watching Bruce’s retreating back as he crossed through the dry and brittle grasses surrounded the manor’s ruins. He had never felt so defeated, it seemed like so long ago he had more power to convince his charge he was taking a path that would only lead to his demise if not careful. Now he felt powerless, realizing there would be no future for Bruce or for himself now, he would have to accept this.  With a deep sadness he sighed.

 

“So falls the house of Wayne.”

 

* * *

 

 

The hours began to dwindle until  Myrna realized she should probably get her things together, Penni waiting for her patiently  the two heading home for the evening. It had started pouring, of course, to add to the kind of day it had ended up being, Myrna having to turn her van’s wipers on full speed to see through the mess of raindrops blurring her vision.   As they drove toward home, Penni scrolled through the news on her phone, letting out a small gasp, grabbing Myrna’s attention as she navigated through Gotham’s now wet roads. She felt her heart constrict for a moment that they were reporting something about Bruce, despite the day having remained calm until this awful weather.

 

“What?” She asked, trying to maintain her composure as Penni read on, while her heart beat in time with her repeated thoughts to not let it be Bruce.

 

“Something’s happening in Metropolis…” She said, Myrna’s hands tightening on the wheel of the car, knuckles going white as she listened to Penni read, “reports indicate the Kryptonian ship is starting to draw power off the city grid, causing a blackout throughout the downtown area--” She said, stopping and looking at her friend with concern as she thought about the implications of something happening in Metropolis again, “You should call your mom and make sure she’s headed home, they’re saying there are also severe power surges coming off the ship itself that are making it difficult for the authorities to breach the area and see what’s causing it.” She said, Myrna allowing a glance at the car’s dashboard clock.

 

“It’s after 6, she should be home by now-- My dad would have been home a few hours before that, but text her for me…” She added, not wanting to have one more worry on her head as she considered what was happening.  She could fathom why Bruce might go to the Kryptonian ship to lure Superman out of hiding, but she couldn’t fathom why he would risk the population of Metropolis with these power surges and blackouts; especially when all he had been saying was the price of Superman’s power was too high.  She heard the familiar alert of a text being sent, relieved Penni had done as she had asked, only to hear her curse seconds later.

 

“Holy hell! What is THAT?” She said, Myrna looking at her friend thinking she had received a text back from her mother already regarding her situation, only to find Penni looking out the windshield toward the evening sky.  Despite the crush of rain against the glass of the windows, the thick clouds covering the sky were providing the perfect canvas for what they were seeing. A bright spotlight shot straight into the air, a shape blocking out enough of the light to form across the clouds.  It took Myrna a second to put together what she was looking at and it made her grip the steering wheel even harder, until her fingers ached. She realized now that she had never seen Bruce’s signal as the Batman before tonight, she’d heard of it, but it had never shown when she was in a position to see it apparently.  Now she hated looking at it, because she knew that whatever was happening in Metropolis wasn’t Bruce, THIS, what she was looking at now, was his signal to Superman, and it didn’t matter because in either case because it meant he was still going forward with his plan.

 

“Is that a bat?” Penni asked, still looking at the signal as they continued on, Myrna’s eyes now firmly on the road, Penni letting out an excited sound, “Oooh, if it’s a bat, then that means that Batman guy must be out and about because of this thing in Metropolis!” She said, not yet realizing she was talking to herself as Myrna wasn’t responding.  Thankfully she didn’t have to as Penni’s phone rang, Myrna’s mother calling to let her know that she and Myrna’s father were home safe, living far enough in the suburbs to be out of reach of downtown Metropolis. Penni chattered on with Myrna’s mother, the two of them speculating about what was going on and what was going to be done about it as Myrna drove on in silence, only adding a few words here or there when her mother asked about her.  By the time they had reached home, Penni had lost interest in talking to her about it, immediately running for the TV to turn on the news to see if this was another attack like two years ago. So far the power surges had gotten worse, the entirety of Metropolis’ downtown quarter in the dark, leaving people without power or the ability to get home except by the light of their transportation or whatever they had on hand. Nothing had yet been reported for Gotham, but Myrna assumed the night was still young; there was still the matter of bringing Superman to him, she had no way of knowing if Bruce had done that yet, unless someone started reporting a fight that would likely not go unnoticed for long.

 

As Penni flipped through the range of news channels available to her, bits and pieces of information about the Kryptonian ship only made the questions everyone had less answered.  Myrna, not wanting to hear anymore, not wanting to find out what she expected to be inevitable this way, walked silently up to her room. She sat in the middle of her bed, legs pulled up to her chest, forehead resting against her knees as she wrapped her arms around the ball she’d made herself into.  She didn’t know what to do, her body was numb and heavy, but her mind wanted to do something, anything, warn anyone who may listen to intervene if it meant Bruce wouldn’t die; but she also knew there wasn’t much anyone could do to intervene in a fight like she knew Superman would give him. So she waited, for Penni to come find her in her own shock,  that the man Myrna had been with these last days was dead-- Or Superman was-- Or they both were. She didn’t know how long she was like that, trying to empty her mind of the thoughts nagging her. She couldn’t process it, didn’t want to process it.

 

She was drawn out of her self-imposed exile by the house shaking and a bright, nearly blinding light filling the sky overhead.  She heard Penni yelling from downstairs and leapt off her bed and out her bedroom door to join her friend in the living room. Penni had the front door open, staring up at the sky, the three dogs cowering in whatever corners of the house they could fit into, the sounds and shaking house frightening them all into fearful silence.  Glancing at the TV that was still on but was having trouble keeping connection was blaring that the U.S. had just detonated nuclear bombs above the planet in an attempt to bring down another alien threat. The video they were plastering all over everyone’s screens showing the alien wasn’t Superman, but something monstrous and grotesque that Superman had been forcing into space and away from the planet at the time of the detonations.    Despite the clear emergency occurring outside their door again, Myrna felt a rush as it registered Superman was alive. If he was alive then either Bruce had not followed through... Or he had lost-- but if Superman was fighting this creature that had come from seemingly nowhere, then maybe they hadn’t had their chance to fight and Bruce was still alive… But now was likely embroiled in this fight and could still die. In fact, none of the situations running through her head were bringing her any reassurance.  

 

Myrna joined Penni at the door, the two tentatively pushing the screen door open and stepping outside, several of their neighbors doing the same as they were looking up at the sky, now darkening once more as the light from the expended bombs cleared away.  Just as quickly as the sky went back to normal did it brighten once more, with a smaller but fast moving object falling through the clouds and toward Earth. It looked like a meteor and its speed was certainly concerning, Myrna hearing their neighbors gasp and let out terrified screams as they worried what kind of fallout might be coming.  Myrna thought about where it was landing, looking at Penni whose eyes were still fixed on the object as it disappeared behind the treeline of their neighborhood.

 

“It’s not landing in Gotham-- I think it’s heading for Metropolis.” She said, Penni finally looking at her, eyes wide and scared.  She was a little surprised to find Myrna was calm, if she was afraid she wasn’t showing it. Myrna went back into the house to grab her phone, calling her parents, it took a few tries as it seemed everyone was on the phone trying to reach loved ones in the affected area or perhaps there was interference from the explosion that had occurred above the atmosphere.  When she finally reached her them, Penni listened to her friend calm her usually unflappable mother down, reassuring her they were ok and asking about their situation in Metropolis. Her mother said the two of them were still fine, they were prepared for at least a week, if not longer, having put away food storage and supplies after the last attack had caused disruptions in food shipments and access to basic needs for awhile as they continued rescues and clean up.  Myrna warned they may not be able to reach each other again as static breached their conversation a few times, that whatever was happening would likely interfere with their phones, so they would meet at their agreed upon location by a certain time if they lost contact. The conversation was brief but informational, Myrna taking on her role as leader, once again in a crisis. She had barely hung up the phone with her mother when the news began announcing the creature was moving, following something that was leading it to Gotham and an area of the harbor that had been abandoned for years and was most likely devoid of human life.  

 

There had been no sign of Superman since the detonation and there was speculation that for all his gifts, a nuclear blast might have been too much, even for him; but apparently not for this creature.  Though that was speculation too as it was too dangerous for anyone to get close to it. Even journalists had their limits it seemed; which was more surprising than Superman being susceptible to a nuclear bomb.  Myrna’s blood ran quicker as the question arose, if Superman weren’t drawing the creature to Gotham, than what was? Who would have the means, the access or the will to challenge it when the military was struggling to getting anywhere near it?

 

“Bruce.” Myrna said softly as she watched the repeating footage of the behemoth of a monster screaming at the sky.

 

It wasn’t long before she and Penni could feel the ground quaking and the sounds of something feral roaring into the night sky, blinding flashes of light and explosions before a blast of energy tore through the neighborhood causing windows in businesses and homes alike to shatter, ripping branches off trees and littering the ground, the sound of it all tearing through the night from the harbor a few miles away, their neighbors and those who had been in the area when this all started began piling in their cars to escape what they believed was coming.  

 

“Should we go?” Penni asked looking back from the TV where what footage they could manage was in and out of service.  Myrna was silent for a moment, as though she were distracted looking out their front door again as the continued sounds of battle echoed toward them over the sounds of cars speeding away.

 

“Myr?” She asked again, touching her friends arm to get her attention, Myrna finally coming back to her and nodding.

 

“Probably a good idea if we get further away from whatever is going on at the harbor, I don’t know if a few miles is enough distance.” She said, not wanting to relive another Metropolis.  Shaking what was happening with Bruce out of her head, Myrna reminded herself he had made his choices, whatever was happening tonight was on him, all she could do now was keep her family safe.  The two women split up duties, one grabbing clothes and toiletries for a few days away from the house, the other shoving water and non-perishables for themselves and the dogs, before everyone tumbled into Myrna’s van and joined the throng of cars heading for what they hoped was safer ground.  As they moved away from the danger, Myrna looked back in her rearview mirror as another explosion burst, the flames from it licking into the night sky and leaving destruction its wake. She fought back everything she was feeling, her worry, her tears, everything, her focus now keeping Penni out of danger and reaching out to her family in Metropolis.  

 

She had to because it was all she had left and she'd be damned if she'd be the victim again.


	20. And So I Turn to You...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle is over, Superman is dead and the world turns on, leaving Myrna and those like her to pick up the pieces and move forward. Superman may not have died by Bruce's hand, but the guilt of his failures remains, leaving him to brood on the kind of future he deserves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The timeline always gets a little fuzzy once Superman dies so I'm sort of guessing at how much time between there is so we can keep it moving. Enjoy and thank you to anyone who has been leaving comments and kudos. It is very much appreciated!

It was almost two days after the incident and Myrna was back at work; but not to teach.  Although it had happened in the middle of the school week there had still been repercussions to the battle and later elimination of the alien monster that had come from the Kryptonian ship.  The majority of the attack had taken place in the abandoned harbor, but the repeated blasts of energy from the creature and the surrounding area had reached several nearby city housing areas, causing extensive damage and displacing many of her students and their families as the city shuffled its feet in coming to even assess the damage, much less fix it.  So Myrna, figuring Thanksgiving break was close enough, made an executive decision to start break early and open the school’s gymnasium, cafeteria and any other open space they could manage to the kids enrolled in their program and their immediate families; offering her teachers as much overtime pay as she could possibly manage to come and help keep everything in order.   Myrna was then moved to near tears when all of them, led by Penni showed up and told her flat out they were there to _volunteer_ their time because they knew what kind of hardship it would put on Myrna and in turn, the school.

 

She had reached out to several relief organizations, asking for assistance in bringing food, water and basic necessities to the school, and today after scraping together what they could from their own pockets and homes for the last 24 hours, the Swift Academy staff and the Swift family in general were now waiting for the small convoy of trucks they had been promised that carried what they had been looking for.  Myrna was waiting by the front doors of the school keeping an eye out for the trucks when her mother came up behind her, rubbing her daughter’s shoulders as she joined her in waiting.

 

“You’ve done such a good thing here, sweets.” She said proudly, calling Myrna by a childhood nickname that had never quite been let go of.  Myrna smiled, happy to be able to spend time with her family for a change, even if it was after yet another crisis. She had grown accustomed to seeing her family almost every single day when she lived in Metropolis, even after moving into her own place and gaining employment.  When she had moved to Gotham and taken on the school, she hadn’t had the chance to see them more than once or twice a month anymore, depending on calls and texts to keep in touch. After she and Penni had gotten the dogs in the car and away from the battle taking place only a few miles away from their home, they had spent most of the night fighting traffic to get across to Metropolis and the relative safety of Myrna’s parents’ house.  They had hunkered down, keeping their eyes and ears open for news as they were able to receive it. It had been a tense night and there had not been much time for pleasantries.

  


Once it seemed the threat was gone, they had bundled themselves back into the car, this time her parents joining them in case they found the usual rabble that seemed to feed off the suffering of others had decided to break into homes while everyone else had filtered out of the city.  They had all been thankful to find that aside from a broken window on the second floor and a couple pieces of missing siding, Myrna and Penni’s house had been left relatively unscathed. Myrna’s father had immediately taken on the job of repairman, leaving the women-folk to put away the things Myrna and Penni had managed to grab in their rush to get out the door, the dogs happy to be home and settling back in immediately.  In between conversations with her parents and Penni and the occasional update, Myrna had allowed her thoughts to turn to Bruce.

 

The news had been reporting the death of Superman endlessly.  The same networks that had labeled him a terrorist within a few moments of the Capitol building being bombed, stoking the fire in the people’s hearts against him, were now memorializing him as though they had never had a change of opinion.  Reporters bloviating about how the Earth would never again be protected like it had been with Superman’s presence. Although she was saddened to hear the news of Superman’s passing, she was also relieved to hear he had died at the hand of the creature and not Bruce’s. She found a weight lift off her heart that no mention of the Batman or Bruce Wayne having been found dead at the scene had reached the news either, which she took as a sign that unless his body was buried under the mess left from the creature and had not yet been found, he had survived.  She realized this also left her unsure of what to do next, if anything at all.  She still felt what Bruce had intended to do had been the wrong choice, but all the evidence available right now showed her he had not gone through with it. She would never know for sure unless Bruce came to her and explained what he had gone through, but because she had walked away from him, Myrna honestly didn’t know if he would ever trust her with that. She couldn’t bear the thought of not having Bruce in her life, and if she did, finding herself in near physical pain after thinking on it. Not wanting to make her family have to support her when there was already so much to deal with, she pushed it aside, having to hide her wet eyes on occasion when her parents or Penni came up on her unexpectedly.  Once she heard her students were being told to leave their homes because of the damage done to them and many of them had nowhere to go, she immediately threw herself into organizing opening the school to them as a shelter.

 

“Thanks, Mom.” She said, putting a hand over her mother’s where it rested on her shoulder.  If anything, she could feel herself coming back into her element in a crisis, the buzz of people in the school reminding her they were safe here and she could take comfort in that.

 

“I never took the time to say thank you for you and Dad for coming to help.” She said, turning to face her mother, the older woman smiling, the familiar crinkle of her eyes as she did reminding Myrna how much she missed being able to come to her mom whenever she needed to.  Reaching up, her mother pushed her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear like she was five again, brushing a hand across her daughter’s cheek.

 

“Oh, Myrie, you know all you have to do is ask.” She said, Myrna smiling and nodding.  She knew, but it didn’t change the fact she was thankful to have family that would do anything for her if they possibly could.  She’d need it, even if she kept quiet as to why. Her mother must have seen the smallest flash of sadness pass through her, because she immediately went into mothering mode, her face dropping her smile and changing to concern.

 

“Myrie-- I know you don’t think I see it, but I know something happened that hurt your heart.” She said, Myrna shaking her head and giving her a half-hearted smile.

 

“You’ve been talking to Penni again, haven’t you?” She said, but her mother kept on being her motherly self.

 

“Penni worries about you, but she’s not your mother.  I’ve known you your whole life, from the second I knew you were coming to this very moment.  I can tell when my daughter isn’t feeling right with the world.” She said, Myrna staying quiet.  It was all too much and not enough and she just needed a moment where people weren’t depending on her before she could let herself focus on it.  And today wasn’t that day.

 

“I know, mom.”

 

“So talk to me.” Her mother said with that commanding tone which had apparently been gifted to her upon Myrna’s birth and even at age 33, she found herself wanting to obey it, but she couldn’t.  There was still too much she couldn’t share because doing so could hurt someone else and she cared too deeply about them to do that. She shook her head and turned back to the school’s driveway.

 

“I’ll be ok.” She answered, knowing that would cost her.  Her mother sighed and rubbed her back anyway.

 

“I’m sure you’ll be ok, but that doesn’t mean you have to suffer in silence.” She said, Myrna nodding.

 

“I know that-- and I promise I will talk when I’m ready, I’m just not…” She said, her mother sighing again, wondering where her daughter got her stubbornness, Myrna reading her mother’s face and laughing.

 

“Well not from you, because you still have yours.” She said, her mom laughing back at her for knowing what she had been thinking.

 

“Darn right.” She said before they were interrupted by Myrna’s most favorite student, Thomas, who had come to inspect if the trucks had arrived.  It had been no surprise that his apartment building had been one affected by the battle at the harbor. He walked over with his hands in his pockets and smiled at the two women shyly.

 

“I asked my mom if I could help when the trucks came.  She said I had to ask you.” He said, Myrna’s face breaking into a wide smile of her own.

 

“I think that would be a wonderful idea.” She said, the little boy’s face lighting up, excited to have a purpose as he and his mother sat surrounded by everyone else in the same predicament right now.  He tugged at his shirt for a moment as he looked out at the parking lot, still empty of supply trucks.

 

“I have something to do first, can I go back inside for a minute?” he asked, Myrna nodding at him.

 

“Sure, I’ll let you know when they get here and we can get to work.” She said, the little boy still smiling as he turned to run back into the building.  She didn’t know what he thought he needed to get done, but he was five, so it probably had to do with Legos, the usual kid stuff. He was barely gone a minute when she heard the acceleration of a diesel engine, walking out the doorway and seeing the first of what she saw were more than the few trucks she was expecting.  She looked back at her mother whose eyes had widened as much as Myrna’s, flapping a hand at her daughter before turning toward the lobby of the school.

 

“I’ll go get him and your father... “ She said, Myrna letting out a snort as she turned her gaze back to the convoy.

 

“You should probably just get everyone…” She said, they were going to need it if these trucks were packed full of supplies.  As her mother retreated back into the school, Myrna walked to the edge of the curb as the first truck pulled into the drive, stopping just ahead of her, the driver hopping out of the cab with a friendly smile on his face.

 

“You Myrna Swift?” He asked, Myrna nodding, gesturing at the remainder of the trucks, some having to pull further down the street to wait their turn to enter.

 

“This is a pleasant surprise, I was only expecting _a_ truck, maybe two!” she exclaimed, the driver nodding as he stepped up on the curb beside her, he seemed a friendly man and happy to help.

 

“We weren’t sure if we’d have enough donations, but we got a call at the last second that several pallets of food, water and toiletries had been dropped off, we just came from the warehouse they were stored at.  Just gotta unload it.” He answered, handing Myrna a clipboard with a list of what they had brought. She didn’t have a chance to fully peruse it before she heard her name being called from behind her. Turning, she saw Thomas proudly marching up the sidewalk leading from the school doorway, several students in tow, many of whom had been involved in his altercation earlier in the week, they all appeared to be on a mission, ready to help and it hit her what Thomas had been doing.  

 

“I see a group of strapping young men coming this way to help now.” She told him, loud enough for Thomas and his merry band to hear, their faces breaking into their own wide smiles as they drew closer.  Not far behind the families of the group coming towards her followed, letting them take the credit due them for coming when asked. Thomas stopped just ahead of her, smile bright and sleeves messily rolled up in preparation of hard work.

 

“I asked some of them to help, Miss Myrna.” He said crooking his thumb over his shoulder toward his new posse, fully grown up in the five seconds since he’d left the building.  Myrna felt her heart nearly burst out of her chest she was so proud of him. She dropped down in front of him, hardly able to contain that pride as she looked at him.

 

“I see that, Thomas.  And I can’t even begin to tell you how proud I am that you asked who you did.  It was a brave thing to do.” She said, reaching out her hand to give him a high-five, to assure him he had done a good thing, knowing it had to have been hard for him to ask those who not long ago, he couldn’t have been close to without it breaking into a fight.  But Thomas didn’t want a high-five, the little boy barely giving her a moment’s notice before launching himself into her arms for a hug. Surprised, Myrna had to catch her balance before she was knocked back on the sidewalk; letting out a laugh as they wobbled for a moment, finally coming to rest so she could properly hug him back.  Which she did, squeezing him tight, looking up to see his mother waiting to help, her eyes filling with tears above a happy smile of her own to see her son on a rare day of confidence. After a few seconds, Myrna leaned back to look at him.

 

“Are you ready to lead your team, sir?” She asked him, Thomas nodding and looked back at his group of waiting classmates, waving them on with a new authority.

 

“Ok guys!  Let’s do this!” He said, Myrna shooing them on as they went to the back of the truck where the driver had already opened the gate to show several pallets of water and food, unwrapping them for easier removal.  Several adults came to help direct and keep stragglers from wandering into the street as they unloaded. Myrna took charge of the rest as each driver told her what they had in the back of their trucks, directing the  group as to what took precedence and where to put it so her staff could organize what they were in charge of in the school. After the last of the trucks in the drive were being unloaded, she took the last few still waiting to help, Penni and her parents among them, across to one of the trucks that hadn’t been able to join the others, the driver getting out to answer her questions as the others had.  Myrna followed him to the back of the truck as he prepared to open the liftgate, stopping short as she recognized the logo on the back of the truck she hadn’t seen on the others because all of their gates had been opened by the time she got to them. Before she could stop herself, Myrna immediately looked around, pushing her hair out of her eyes as the strong breezes (and odd weather) that had followed the battle caused it to blur her vision.

 

After a moment, she found him, walking down the street toward them, hands in the pockets of his long overcoat, wind tousling his dark hair in similar fashion.  His eyes were locked firmly on her as she finally realized she saw him. Myrna’s body went tense as though her mind were in a fight with herself about whether she should stay exactly where she was or run straight to him and remove all doubt from those around her of what this man was to her.  She could hear some of the parents in the group start whispering amongst themselves, clarifying with one another that the man currently walking toward them, _her_ , was indeed Bruce Wayne, and why would he be here, of all places.  The gossip was going to run like wildfire after this, but she found she didn’t care.  He was alive, he was in one piece and he was here, so many of her questions answered by the simple fact of his presence.  She felt Penni nudge her softly, leaning in to whisper in her friends ear to keep from prying eyes and ears around them.

 

“Myrna… Go… We’ve got this… Go to him.” She said, knowing from the look on Myrna’s face that Penni’s suspicions something had happened between the two of them that had left Myrna drifting and his being here was sign that perhaps that something was finally over.  She turned to look at her friend, a strong supportive smile waiting for her before another soft nudge set her in motion. Slowly handing Penni the clipboard, she broke away from the group, wondering if the holes being bored into her back by everyone’s eyes on her could be seen by anyone else because she could feel them like they were real.  It seemed like there were miles between them even though he was now feet away from her as she crossed the distance to meet him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Bruce hadn’t slept since the attack by Luther’s creature, even well after it was done.  He had been thrown into a state of guilt that even he had never managed before this experience.  The passed three days had been eye opening for him, realizing too late he and Superman had been manipulated to an extent that humbled Bruce deeply; he had never before fallen for the ploys of a villain so easily but Luthor had been determined and clever to build on the rage Bruce had been stoking for the last two years.  Somehow knowing just how to prod painfully, the wounds the Batman bore after so many losses the day of the attack in Metropolis. Now when he closed his eyes, Bruce saw Superman, clutched in the clawed and bony hand of Luthor’s creature, chest ripped open after being weakened by a weapon that would never have been there had Bruce not given in to his anger.  He saw the woman that had loved not just Kal-El the Kryptonian, but Clark Kent, a resident of Metropolis, with an adoring, now heartbroken mother in Smallville and a good job in the city; who sometimes moonlighted as a guardian for the planet he called home, crying over his now broken body.  He replayed this moment, knowing full well he should have done better, should have seen through this obvious trick and now a man who could have been his ally, was dead.

 

Alfred postulated after, as the two of them stood beside the lake, watching the trees bend back and forth as the high winds following the death of Superman and Doomsday tore at them.  That although Bruce had made a terrible choice to pursue Superman with violence, had he not, Luthor would still have unleashed the Doomsday creature upon the world in his obsession to destroy Superman.  There was no doubt in anyone's mind, far more people would have been slaughtered for it. Without Bruce, the weapon that ultimately ended the monster would not have been created, nor would it have been in Gotham for them to use on it, and although Bruce would have been happy to switch places with him to make up for his mistake, Superman was one of the few with the strength to push that weapon through the beast’s heart.  In the end, Luthor had thought of enough variables that mortal peril for Superman or the world was a given and those who would be its heroes would have to choose which lives were to be saved. Superman had clearly made his choice, knowing from his own experience with Kryptonite that it was likely the end for he as well as the deformity Luthor had created. It being a Catch-22 had hardly given Bruce relief from the guilt and grief he felt for having only supplied what Luthor wanted, in some form, in the death of Superman, but it wasn’t untrue that it would have played out like this in some manner.  He could only wish now, that it had been because they were working together and not as enemies to start with.

 

As a result, Bruce had done what little he could to make amends; starting by moving Luthor to Arkham to keep an eye on him and maybe deprive him of what comforts he enjoyed for twisting Bruce’s heart toward rage. Anonymously paying for the simple funeral the Kent family had planned; no pomp and circumstance, just a plain pine box and a gathering of those who had known him as Clark, laid to rest beside his father.  Bruce finding the more he learned about the man, the more he respected him and felt shame that had he not been so easily manipulated by his own anger, he would have respected him in life as well. Terrible things had happened in Metropolis two years ago, but he could recognize now, that Superman was not the enemy then, anymore than he was now that he was gone.  Had he listened to Alfred and especially to Myrna, perhaps he would not have watched a grieving family stand before the grave of a son, a love, and a friend to give their last respects.

 

He had returned home from that trip and spent the next few days more unsure than he’d ever been.  He had made mistakes before, that was nothing new for him and he wasn’t too proud to admit it.  Many however,  were just miscalculations that affected very little but his own life.  Of course there were times when it hurt more than him and he had a regret for those that over time might fade to return only when the moment struck him, but this he was sure would stick with him for the rest of his days.  He found himself sticking around the glasshouse, looking for things to busy himself with, staying home from the office because he couldn’t focus on one more menial task after everything that had happened. He was exhausted, yet wired, morose and bursting at the seams because he honestly didn’t know what was next anymore.  Usually so careful to be several steps ahead no matter the situation and now all he felt was miles behind.

 

 By the early morning of the second or third day, it seemed Alfred had had enough of Bruce skulking as he tried to complete his regular tasks in peace.  Usually he was alone during the day, hardly remembering the last time Bruce stayed home ill as an adult and now he remembered why, because Bruce couldn’t handle idleness with no purpose, even when his body was screaming at him that it could.  Add a healthy helping of guilt and he was utterly unbearable to be around. After what seemed the hundredth time of Bruce attempting to work out, look through Luthor’s research or even just prepare himself a meal and it interrupting something Alfred was doing, the older man finally let out an exasperated sigh, catching Bruce’s eye and staring him down.

 

“Enough is enough, sir.” He said with a thick air of healthy English annoyance.  Bruce caught by surprise that Alfred had managed to maintain his composure until just this moment, looking up at the silver haired man with confusion.

 

“Alfred?” He asked, Alfred shook his head as he threw down the wrench he had in hand from working on Bruce’s Astin, which needed a tune up now and then, on the rolling work table next to it.

 

“Master Wayne, I am aware of the very real pains you have gone through as of late and I have tried, believe me I have _tried,_ to remain understanding as you process, but I _honestly_ do not believe you will find the solace you seek by hiding in this house.” He said firmly, Bruce staying quiet as Alfred let loose.

 

“And to be quite frank,” The Englishmen continued, “you sulking about the house is driving me **_bloody bonkers_ **!” He said, his face quivering with more passion than he’d managed in a very long time in telling Bruce off, which only reassured the younger man, he had indeed overstayed his welcome in his own house.

 

“I’m sorry, Alfred.” Bruce said truthfully, he knew he was being irritating, unintentionally or otherwise, but he didn’t feel as though he belonged anywhere right now.  “I have no excuse for behaving this way… I just...” He was so unaccustomed to this feeling he didn’t even have the words to explain it. Everything he had touched as of late had fallen apart in the most spectacular way and although his usual style was to bury it deep and move on, he didn’t think he had the right to do that now.  Alfred, now officially off working on the classic car ahead of him, moved the work table beside it and lifted the support holding up the hood, bringing it down until it locked into place with a satisfying click.

 

“If I may be so bold, sir-- Might I suggest you find that auburn wonder you let walk out the door, beg her forgiveness and let _her_ heal you.”

 

“I think I may be beyond being able to ask for that now, Alfred…” Bruce started but the bespectacled man put up a hand to stop him from speaking.

 

“Master Wayne, I don’t know Miss Myrna nearly as well as I should, but if there is one thing I have noted of her, it’s that she is a woman with an incredible power to forgive a great many things,” he said as he picked up his toolbox, the tools clinking as they slipped against one another as he did so with force, “not to mention, I did say _beg_ …” He added as he turned on his heel and stalked away from the dark haired Wayne, wondering if there were anything in this house he _could_ do that would not end up with a brooding figure wafting in like the grim reaper on holiday to bother him.

 

Bruce stood beside the car a moment longer, fingertips tapping lightly against the hood as he considered what Alfred had said.  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her, he did, if there was one thing he was sure of it was that. However, after their last encounter, he knew he had done far more than disappoint Myrna and there wasn’t great confidence in him that she’d want to see _him_.  He’d spent a lot of their time together focusing on how best to destroy Superman and that had led to him making choices that directly and indirectly hurt her.  She had been willing to forgive those moments, but there was only so many times you could do such a thing to a person before they said no more. He would never blame Myrna if she did, but there was only one way to know.  He found his feet leading him back into the house to clean himself up, at the very least, his face needed a meeting with a good shave before he did anything else. Before he had even managed to shut the door behind him, he heard Alfred’s voice echo around the corner of the house he had disappeared to.

 

“She’s currently housing families displaced by the creature in the gymnasium of her school, if you were wondering where to find her.  And do shave that layer of fur off your face before you go.” He said, Bruce shaking his head, leave it to Alfred. And leave it to Myrna to clean up a mess he had created, albeit unknowingly.  No doubt his team at Wayne Enterprises had already made efforts to let him know of those affected by the creature and the battle to stop it and if he wanted to assist in its clean up as Gotham’s personal philanthropist; strange weather could hardly be the only thing caused by its short lived existence.  Of course, he would have known that if he had bothered to check in, or do anything except feel sorry for himself. He had told Diana he would need her help to locate the other metahumans, those like her because Luthor had made it clear something was coming now that the Kryptonian was gone and he had done very little on his own to begin that process.

 

 As he prepared himself to find Myrna, Bruce checked his phone and email, unsurprised to find messages about exactly what he had expected, making a few calls to his employees, relieved to find their boss had finally gotten back to them as they stressed over what the news would say that Wayne Enterprises had not yet donated time, money or supplies after this latest incursion.  He gave swift orders to them over what he wanted done, money and construction to begin immediately on the buildings the city was dragging its feet on, encouraging them to put out statements belittling the slow acting relief efforts of Gotham in an attempt to put pressure on them to get a move on. He also gave direction for several truckloads of supplies to be sent to the academy, telling them he expected it to be done and on its way within the next hour, hearing the gulp from the employee he was talking to as he was gifted the task of telling his coworkers.  Bruce wasn’t too concerned though, at least confident in the efficiency of his company to complete his expectations with time to spare as they had so many times before. He dropped his phone on his bed, finishing buttoning his vest before sliding his coat on.

  
Moment of truth was going to be upon them quickly.

 

He drove through Gotham, considering what he was going to say to her when he saw her.  Thankfully, or so he told himself, there was enough traffic to give him time to think about it.  Apparently even the appearance and subsequent death of a grotesque creature wasn’t enough to stop the afternoon rush.  Despite that time though, he found he still didn’t have the right words to express to her how much he regretted their last parting and that he had feelings for her that he should have followed rather than his rage for Superman.  Nothing could appropriately convey it and no matter how he put it, it only made his choices sound all the more terrible. When he reached the academy though, he realized anything he would have planned to say would have flew promptly out of his head.  He had been pleased to see his employees had come through and in the time it had taken him to make a call, they had prepared trucks and arrived ahead of him. He parked up the road from the school, waiting until a small group of people came around the side, being led by a familiar face.

 

Although it had barely been four days since the last time he had seen her, he felt hungry at the sight of her.   He hadn’t realized how deeply the real possibility of never seeing her again would affect him, what a feeling it was to know he could, and it made him wonder if he was actually prepared for her to reject him for his mistakes.  He had chosen anger and revenge over what she had been offering him, a chance at a true and real love, which should have trumped anything else if he’d allowed himself to think it through but he hadn’t and as he had come to terms with on the way here, he would have to bear the chance she would hold him accountable for that.

 

 Myrna was talking to the group surrounding her, some children so he assumed students, pointing at each, clearly giving them duties.  The driver of the truck had stepped down from the cab to open the back, Myrna and the others walking behind it which prompted him to get out of his own vehicle.  He began to walk slowly down the road, not in a hurry to hear her turn him away but wanting to reach her anyway, to wrap her in his arms and apologize, over and over for being an idiot.  What a time for him to realize all of this now, it only took fighting an alien who could have snapped his neck within the first few moments of their fight if it weren’t for the Kryptonite and nearly being ripped apart by a science experiment from the pits of hell for him to get there.  He nearly stopped in his tracks as he saw Myrna step from behind the truck, a look on her face that made him hopeful as she searched the grounds of the academy for something or someone-- for him-- as her eyes came to rest on him. He saw Penni lean in beside her, whispering in her ear as she took the clipboard Myrna was holding, urging her toward him.  He made himself keep moving forward even as it took her a few seconds to start walking toward him too.


	21. Share the Weight of the World...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce has gone to find Myrna at the academy and finds he doesn't know what to say, but she does...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The end of this story! Thank you all for sticking with me as it took me this long to get the words out-- This isn't the end for Bruce and Myrna though, hopefully it will be obvious once you read this chapter, so be on the lookout for the next adventure with these two.
> 
> In the meantime, tell me what you think, would like or overall have an inkling will happen in the comments, if you'd like.
> 
> THANK YOU AGAIN!

The two of them stopped within a foot of each other, both feeling like they had only just met, unsure of what to say even though they both wanted to speak.  Myrna wasn’t sure what to do and even Bruce, who seemed to have a plan for everything seemed awkward and out of sorts now that she stood before him. She heard Penni holler for everyone to look alive and get back to unloading, the sounds of people starting to pull things out of the truck again more reassuring they had less of an audience and it breaking the tension enough to make someone make the next move.  Bruce could tell Myrna was having a hard time looking at him, eyes falling to the ground as her fingers began to twist in the fabric of her shirt, not knowing what to do with themselves even though they were itching to reach out to make sure he was actually there. She didn’t have to wait long as Bruce closed the space between them, pulling a hand free from his coat, grabbing her hands and making them go still with his touch.

 

“Myrna…” He started, trying to get her to look at him, but she shook her head and looked back at the people working at the trucks before briefly looking back at him.  She pulled a hand free from his, grasping the edge of his lapel on his open coat, pulling on it lightly as she started to walk towards the back of the school.

 

“Not here.” She said, realizing she didn’t want anyone but them to be privy to this.  He complied, the slight tug on his coat reminding him she hadn’t let go as they walked to a more private area, away from prying eyes.  They walked for a few minutes in silence, the school building beginning to block out the signs of life in front of the school until they couldn’t even hear anyone else.  Myrna had let go of him, hands clasped ahead of her now, until they reached the small garden and pond they’d discussed their future in before, appropriate given this was likely to happen again.  It was quiet for a moment longer, Myrna still turned away from him before Bruce said her name again.

 

“Myrna--” He started, but she interrupted him as she turned to face him, eyes wet as she closed the space between them, throwing her arms around his neck, stopping him with her kiss.  She felt a quiver of nerves that whatever he had been about to say included his intentions for this to be truly over and this was a goodbye forever, but it was quickly assuaged as she felt his arms wrap around her waist, strong hands splaying across her back and pulling her to him tightly.  He kissed her like he he would never get the chance again, the two drowning in need, want and dare someone say it, love.

 

Seconds or maybe hours passed and Myrna reluctantly pulled back from him, more reassured now, that he had returned her kiss, she looked at him as she did, pushing a hand across her face in frustration because she was tired of crying.

 

“Sorry… I interrupted you…” She said a little embarrassed at herself, making Bruce laugh, something he certainly hadn’t expected to be able to do anytime soon.  He snaked his arm back from around her waist to touch her, unable to contain a smile as he tipped her face up, thumb absently outlining her bottom lip as he did.

 

“I don’t think I was complaining.” He responded leaning his own face down to kiss her again, reveling in being able to touch her, that it appeared she wasn’t so disgusted with him she was going to turn him away.  He pressed a few more soft kisses against her mouth before he pulled back again, knowing despite this revelation, she was going to want answers and there was plenty they were going to have to discuss. Finally, after allowing himself these few moments, he leaned back enough so the two could be eye to eye.  She was silent for a moment and he could tell she was considering what she felt she needed to say first.

 

“I thought you were dead.” She said quietly as her hands, useless and looking for something to keep them occupied nervously followed the line of his coat collar and lapels, stopping just at his chest where he took hold of them with his own.  

 

“ I should have listened...  To everything you were saying to me…” He said, still in wonder that someone, anyone, that wasn’t Alfred, who knew who he was could still have the ability to look at him after everything that had happened with the look Myrna had on her face; it shining deep in her eyes, Bruce seeing just how truthful that look was.  

 

“The news said Superman died because of that thing… Not you?” she asked him, hopeful the answer was what she thought it was.  When he nodded, he could feel the relief wash over her and the tension in her released.

 

“Luthor created a monster using the technology on the Kryptonian wreck as a backup— in case I failed.” He said, Myrna’s breath catching in her throat as she heard the grief in his voice.

 

“Lex Luthor?  What did he have to do with this?” she asked, confused. Although there had been reports of Lex being institutionalized, it had been kept quiet as to why, the media speculated, as was their custom, but no one could say for certain.  The look on Bruce’s face changed, it was awash with anger and regret. He released her hands and turned to walk toward the little pond just beside them, finding he couldn’t look at her while explaining what he had done, without being overwhelmed with the shame that had kept him hidden in his own home for the last three days.

 

“Luthor **wanted** me to fight him… He _wanted_ me to take the Kryptonite and use it against Superman, to kill him…” He said, he could hear Myrna walk behind him, booted feet pushing the dry grass surrounding them as the wind pushed at them both.

 

“Bruce, I don’t understand, why would he do such a thing?” She asked, she felt her own heart tighten as she watched him, back still to her.  For all his strength and silent resolve, she could see, even just in his shoulders, there was a burden there now, pressing on him, making him feel small in more than just body.

 

“He felt Superman was a fraud, in his twisted mind he believed he needed to be exposed and killed… And he knew, somehow, I would be willing to do it.” He said, that weight in his shoulders beginning to crush him.

 

“But you didn’t.  You didn’t go through with it.” Myrna responded.  Bruce let out a contemptful snort, the contempt directed at himself, the Batman, the self-proclaimed protector of Gotham and now Earth.

 

“I led him there, I weaponized the Kryptonite.   _I_ might as well have killed him.” He answered, his hand in the death of a good man clear to him and he hoped, to Myrna. He wanted her to choose him, to be with him, but he wanted her to do it with all the facts. Full transparency that he was not the man she had thought.

 

“You didn’t bring that creature to life, did you?” Myrna asked, Bruce still looking down on the pond as he shook his head no.

 

“No— But I let Luthor manipulate me.  I should have seen it and I should have stopped it.  I let my rage guide my decisions when I should have found another way, from the start.” He said, his throat tight with anger toward himself and leaving Myrna wanting to touch him, to reassure him somehow that it mattered he had stopped himself.

 

“It sounds like Luthor was able to influence you both… He wasn’t willing to get his own hands dirty so he used you to get what he wanted, HE should be held responsible for that, at the very least.” She told him, hoping he would see that she was aware there was a kernel of innocence for him in this to hold onto. Bruce was very good at maintaining his guilt for many things, she was learning, and this would be no different.  

 

“Clark was only there because Luthor abducted his family.  I was there purely out of revenge, I should be held accountable for that...  At least.” He responded, Myrna’s mind sparking at the name Clark. Surely he didn’t mean Clark Kent, the reporter who had died covering the incident, THAT’S who Superman really was?  And with a family, no less. She shook her head, there would be a time and a place.

 

None of this was right and she understood why Bruce felt as he did, but there was also a tiny, greedy piece of her that recognized if she didn’t show him there was room for forgiveness, even after this, she would lose him and she’d already gotten close enough for that to happen too many times, for now.  She closed the gap between them, wrapping her arms around him from behind and resting her cheek against his back, she felt his hands grasp hers from where they rested on his chest as she did.

 

“But you stopped.” She said, wanting him to know that wasn’t just a passing reason, it WAS the reason and he needed to hold onto that.  He shook his head, like he was shaking off a minor detail, so dead set on drowning in his shame.

 

“I stopped because he said my mother’s name.” He exclaimed, the buzz of his voice reverberating through his skin to hers, Myrna going still as she heard him say it, his reason.  She could feel his breathing increase, the memory of it causing him to be more emotional than he tended to be. “Apparently it’s his mother’s name too.” He added, far more softly now.  Myrna turned her head as she let the confession settle, her forehead coming to rest against his back now, the pressure of it oddly reassuring to him as she also tightened her arms against him.  She stayed quiet for a moment, thinking on how to make him realize just how human it made him, that the utterance of his mother’s name; a mother who had been gone for a very long time from a violent act against her had been enough to quiet his own anger.

 

“Sometimes we have to find ourselves at our worst to come back to our best, Bruce.  Your mother’s memory being enough to remind you of who you are, truly, who you are is a testament to that." She said, feeling his back tighten against her from where she rested against him.   "If you can’t be grateful for that, _I_ will be, because it means you’re here with me right now.” Her trust in him, although welcome made him wonder if it weren’t misplaced  

 

“I don’t deserve you, Myrna.” He said, Myrna glad he couldn’t see her face because she was having a hard time keeping her lips from curving into a small smile.  This was truly an awful situation for him and she knew that, but he was also _so_ dramatic.  He couldn’t see through it enough to know he wasn’t the villain, but surely there had to be a way to show him.

 

“I know I wasn’t there and I didn’t go through what you did, Bruce.  But I do know _you_ didn’t take his life, _you_ found a reason to stop and you took it.  That means something.” She said, letting him go so they could face each other.  When he looked at her, she couldn’t help but reach out to touch his face and smile, sad for him, but hopeful for them both, regardless.

 

“You’ll have to live with what happened for the rest of your days, but you don’t have to live with it alone.” She said, reminding him of the first time she had said it and meant it, just as she did now.  Bruce smiled, admiring her in a way few others garnered from him.

 

“How do you do that?” He asked, Myrna looking at him questioningly.

 

“Do what?” She asked him as he pulled her closer again, running his fingers through her hair, letting the red waves cascade over the tips.  He had honestly believed he would never have the opportunity to do that again once before, he wasn’t going to waste the chance now. He looked down at her as she awaited an answer.

 

“Be you.” He said simply, she laughed and tilted her head, shrugging her shoulders.

 

“What, you think I came out of the catalogue like this?” She asked, Bruce laughing.

 

“Probably.” He answered, Myrna smiling but going quiet and serious as she fidgeted with a button on his vest.

 

“I didn’t tell you the whole truth--” she said finally, looking up at him from her fidgeting as he watched her with that look that always made her elated and terrified; like he could see all of her and still none of it scared him.

 

“The truth about what?” he asked, in the time he had known her, he knew she hadn’t lied to him and he wasn’t that concerned she had lied about anything now.

 

“About Metropolis, the attack-- I didn’t tell you the whole truth and I should have…” She said, taking a deep breath before she continued, “When I was healing and things were touch and go, I was angry-- so angry.  I was angry at Superman and the other Kryptonians, I was angry at the first responders, my doctors, my God, I was even angry at my parents and they hadn’t done anything but fight to keep me alive.” She said, her eyes never leaving his.

 

“I thought everything I had been before was dead after the attack, because I couldn’t save everyone and I _still_ almost died because of it anyway.  I let it consume me for entirely too long and I had to realize I _wouldn’t_ heal unless I let it go and lived a life **worth** surviving the worst it had given me.  I wasn’t really angry at Superman or my family-- I was angry at myself, over something I would never have been able to change.  Once I realized that, it was easier to forgive most things.” She finally closed her eyes, she had lived with this long before she’d met Bruce and she had found her own way back, but occasionally she remembered where she had been and it wasn’t a place she wanted to live again.

 

“You asked me if I blamed Superman and I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t... But maybe if I had told you everything, I could have changed your mind and things would have been different.” She said, Bruce finding he couldn’t help but smile at her, tipping her face up to kiss her again.  He wouldn’t be getting tired of that anytime soon today. If there were a higher power, then it had given him a rare gift in this woman, who could accept he was an imperfect man with a life that couldn’t be classified in any normal way. And here she was, trying to take some of the blame he rightly deserved off him because she hadn’t admitted she was angrier than she’d let on that she’d nearly died two years ago.

 

“I made my choice before I ever met you, Myrna… I was too far down the rabbit hole, I _am_ grateful it didn’t go my way though. ” He said before he started to show her how he felt on the matter.  Myrna was happy to return the favor, arms wrapping around him under his coat like she always seemed to do and he realized he liked quite a lot, turning her face up to him willingly.  There wasn’t much time to consider more though, as they heard a familiar voice shout from across the lawn, the two of them looking to find Penni walking toward them.

 

“Hey!  If you two are done makin’ out like a couple of hormonal teenagers, maybe we could have a hand with all this stuff?” She said, Myrna laughing but mortified as she hid her face against Bruce’s chest.

 

“It’s incredible how embarrassing she is...” She said, voice muffled against his shirt.  Bruce rubbed her back consolingly, knowing she wasn’t serious; Penni was far more than a friend to her, she was family and family was embarrassing.

 

“You love it.” He said kissing the top of her head as she leaned back and gave him an unsure look.

 

“I think _you_ love it because it means she’s not doing it to _you_.” She answered sarcastically as they walked toward Penni, Myrna hooking her arm around Bruce’s as they did, feeling lighter, that he was alive and well and they were together again.

 

“We still have things we need to talk about though.” She said quietly as they walked, Bruce nodding, eyes still on Penni.

 

“I know.”

 

It gave Bruce some relief from his thoughts to be here, with her, as the two rejoined the others and helped unload the supplies from the trucks until they were emptied and the school made shelter was full, the families there settled until their homes ready again.  Which he was able to update Myrna, would be soon as his own people had arrived at the buildings damaged by the battle and were well on their way to repairing them. The look she had given him in response, of thanks and pride was enough to make him want to do anything she asked from now on, no matter what it might be, if she wanted the moon, she’d have it.  

 

That revelation must have been obvious as Myrna’s mother, who had been friendly but busy until the last truck was unloaded stopped beside him as she took a moment to rest and take a drink from her water bottle, the two looking on where Myrna was helping her band of mismatched students finish neatly stacking the remainder of the supplies in front of them, giving them hi-fives in celebration when they were done.

 

“She’s something, isn’t she?” she asked him, a glint in her eye that told Bruce she was on to him, “I mean, I may be biased a bit, her being my baby and all…” She said, but Bruce nodded in agreement.

 

“You’re not wrong, Mrs. Swift…  It’s... Difficult... To find someone like Myrna-- It’s a credit to you and your husband to have raised a daughter like her.” He said, Myrna’s mother smiling brightly in a way that was very familiar to him.  It seemed Myrna had inherited many things from her mother and he was finding for the first time, he was actually looking forward to seeing more of those similarities in action. Obviously, thanks to circumstances out of his control, he’d never had a relationship with his parents the way Myrna did, which he understood all too well and therefore had grown accustomed to pushing the thought of what that life might have been away; never letting himself ponder it.  But to see Myrna in her element, with her parents there to support her, it was an experience he was discovering he wasn’t opposed to being a part of.

 

“Oh, Mr. Wayne--”

 

“Bruce.” He said, trying to interrupt as politely as possible, Mrs. Swift bobbing her head in agreement to his understated request for informality.

 

“ _Bruce…_ Her father and I were the lucky ones.  She had her moments, but all in all, I didn’t have to work that hard…  The day she came home from her first day of Kindergarten and told me how much she loved children, I knew she was going to be something special.  Even though I ended up having to break her heart by reminding her _she_ was a child.” She adoes with a laugh, a mother clearly enamored of her daughter.

 

“You were certainly right about that.  She is something special.” He responded, it was the truth and he had no problem telling it, as Mrs. Swift turned to look  him in the eye.

 

“I never doubted you would see it, but I see the way you look at her now and I think maybe it’s more than that…” she said, Bruce matching her gaze.

 

“Mother’s intuition?” He asked, Mrs. Swift shrugging with a knowing smile.

 

“I have eyes and I was your age once…  I know this is still young and new for the both of you… My Myrna is smart and slow to fall, but when she does, she does so with all she has.”  Myrna’s mother said looking at him with kind eyes, that he could only assume would easily turn ugly if he gave them a reason to as she continued.

 

“So please, Bruce, be good to her.” She asked it of him sincerely and he found he wanted nothing more than to reassure her that’s all he wanted. He knew what kind of reputation he had acquired over the years, in Gotham and Metropolis.  Certainly a mother’s worst nightmare if he was being honest, though most of the women he’d ever been with most likely didn’t have mothers as involved as Myrna’s, who would be concerned enough to protect their daughter’s hearts from the likes of him. He didn’t have the opportunity to give a word on the matter before Myrna joined them. She gave her mother a wary look, making the older woman laugh.

 

“Don’t worry, Myrie.  I didn’t scare him off-- No naked baby pictures or anything too embarrassing… Yet.” She said, Myrna shaking her head, amazed at how the people she loved never failed to be _hilarious._

 

“And hopefully never.” She said but Mrs. Swift tilted her head toward Bruce.

 

“She can’t be everywhere at once, right?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows conspiratorially, Bruce laughing and nodding before looking back at Myrna, who was not afraid to give him a look that said she’d be withholding everything he quite enjoyed doing with her if he joined ranks with her mother and he quickly hid the smile.  It was nice, being able to feel apart of something, even if deep down, he was still feeling the shame of choosing the incorrect path but a few days earlier.

 

“You’re such a party pooper, Myrie…” Her mother said, rubbing her daughter’s shoulder before she took her leave and went to find her husband.  Myrna rolled her eyes and looked back Bruce.

 

“Well now that _that’s_ over…  You want to get out of here?” She said grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the gym doors.  He followed, looking back at the group of people still here, milling around or preparing for the evening to arrive.

 

“You don’t need to stay?” He asked, Myrna smiling and shaking her head.

 

“I’ve been told to vacate the premises-- I’ve been here since the day after it all happened, getting things set up and checking people in.  I guess they’re sick of seeing me. Or I smell bad, it could go either way.” She said jokingly, Bruce catching movement out of the corner of his eye to see Penni waving at the two of them from across the room as Myrna led them out the double doors toward the school’s front entrance. They passed into the evening weather, the wind having died down and the warmth from the sun dissipating as it disappeared under the horizon; the sidewalk empty of people as everyone had moved inside for the evening. Bruce slowed his gait, tightening his grip on Myrna’s hand enough to catch her attention.  She stopped and turned to face him, eyes questioning as she did, surprised to find him considering her in a way she couldn’t read.

 

“What?” She asked, Bruce pulling her towards him until they were chest to chest.

 

“I know we need to talk about so many things when we get wherever we’re going and I honestly don’t know if that discussion is going to change this-- Change us… But until then…” He said, leaning down he kissed her, Myrna’s hands coming to rest against his face as he did, happy to partake in anything that brought them closer.  Myrna pulled back after a moment, hands still cupping his face, she didn’t say anything but Bruce knew she didn’t have to, grabbing her hands and walking her in the direction of his own vehicle.

 

Whatever happened they would figure it out together.

 

What neither of them realized was someone was waiting, just out of reach in the shadows of the trees backing up to the school.  Maybe had he not been distracted by the will of his heart when he was so very used to using his head on the streets of Gotham, Bruce would have realized they were being watched, but all he could see was Myrna as he opened the door of the car for her, Myrna laughing and smiling at him as he did so.  He closed the door as she settled, eyes scanning the neighborhood but not really seeing as the shadow moved closer. For a moment Bruce did feel a tingle at his neck, like something or someone was about to pounce and immediately looked for some sign of danger and found none; the feeling gone almost as quickly as it had come.  Shaking it off, he walked around the car and slid into the driver’s seat, starting the car and immediately grabbing Myrna’s hand in his as they pulled onto the street. Neither saw the shadow move into the light, no longer a shadow, but a man. The darkening sky provided him with enough cover that he wasn’t easily noticeable as he watched the car carrying the two away from him.   He seemed unconcerned by their departure as he walked to a motorcycle parked further up the road, straddling it with long legs and setting off after them.

 

It seemed even after everything, a moment of peace was not in the cards and only time would tell what the future held for Bruce Wayne  and Myrna Swift and of it would be kind.

 

Fin.


End file.
